


Naturally Synthetic

by Heroesareoverwith



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Anal Fingering, Android!Stiles, F/M, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Officerworker!Derek, Playful Sex, Technologicallyimpaired!Derek, There will be more characters, There will be more relationships eventually - Freeform, a little spanking I guess but like not major, because i can't write smut, even for Peter, happiness, more playful, there is a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heroesareoverwith/pseuds/Heroesareoverwith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weretechnology models are humanoid computers by creator Doctor Alan Deaton.  They have changed the way human lives function.  Derek never expected to have enough money to afford a model, but when he finds one lost in the street with no memory, he wonders if it's a stroke of good luck or bad luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Within

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, okay, so I know it says explicit but it won't get explicit until later chapters. There will also be other relationships that form and characters will come in and out. Tags and things will probably change as time continues too, so just bare with me, sorry. I will tag anything that might be problematic. Until then, enjoy! If you want to talk about it outside Ao3, my tumblr is thebooklegger.
> 
> This fic idea came to me after looking at littlecofiegirl's comic on Tumblr. Her artwork is amazing I would really suggest going and checking the series out if you haven't already.

“…A new technological achievement by one Doctor Alan Deaton, who has stretched the boundaries of life and the answer to the question of ‘what is a human?’ based on this one project. When asked if his project was going to become available for the public to buy, he seemed unsure but eventually commented that yes, you will be able to buy your very own humanoid computer at the end of next year. There will be a few first models, but they plan to add new models to the line every year. Doctor Deaton has named his odd creation in a lighthearted spirit, and in relation of his own interest in mythology and folktales. “Weretechnology is the word that have I chosen for the computer line. ‘Were’ being an archaic term used for ‘man’, which was how we ended up getting the term werewolf in our language. I thought it only fitting that my line be named man-technology, human-looking technology. Abbreviations were not my input, but Weretech has taken off.” This is a quote from Doctor Deaton himself about the line. Start saving folks, so you may be able to purchase your very own Weretech model next year, giving you a little slice of history in the making.”

~~~

“I don’t have enough money to get one, and I never will, Erica. Stop telling me to look into them,” Derek grumbled to his friend while he swiped a napkin across the table. Erica had become so animated in telling him that he needed to get with ‘at least this century of computer technology’ before he ‘made the technology gap that much worse,’ that she had split her water everywhere. This is exactly what happened whenever he asked Erica to go eat with him. Why did he continue doing it?

“But that’s why you save, Derek. Weretech would be great for you because you can basically program it to do everything you want it to do and you don’t have to know anything about computers then!” She jumped a bit, spilling just a little more water and made an apologetic face. “Sorry, I’m really just trying to help you out. You do realize that you’re going to need to use computers for any job you do now, right?”

In response, Derek just sighed and rolled his eyes. “When I get my student loans magically wiped, then maybe I’ll buy a computer. But until then, I didn’t get a full ride scholarship to school and now owe half of my body parts in money. You go enjoy your model.”

“Oh, I will. She’s absolutely brilliant,” Erica grinned at him. Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes, because ever since she actually got the computer, it’d been all she was able to talk about. In fact, she talked about the computer like a real person, gave it a name and everything. ‘Allison.’ Derek had been very proud of himself for not bursting into a fit of laughter when she’d told him.

Though it wasn’t uncommon for people to name their Weretech model. There were plenty of people at his job that had them and named them, even took them on dates. The world really had been completely reshaped by Weretechnology. The computers had been out on the market for only around five years or so, but they were still the biggest seller, and Doctor Deaton had even made models for lower prices, making them more affordable. It was a kind gesture, but still not enough for someone fresh out of college like Derek. Plus, he absolutely hated computers and the moment any model started ranting off about RAM or USB connectors he immediately lost interest and started doodling on his paper. Weretech was just not for him. Plus, there were now fifty female models, but only ten male ones. It wasn’t surprising that people wanted female models instead of male ones. But it wasn’t like Derek liked any of the male models that were out, and if you were supposed to buy the computer that you found the “most attractive,” female models weren’t really going to work for him either. Not that he should care. They were machines.

“Alright, Derek, I will see you tomorrow. Try not to be too confused when you’re trying to figure out how to turn on the TV later,” she grinned and leaned over the table to give him a peck on the cheek.

Derek frowned at her and wiped the lip gloss away. She knew how much he hated her kissing him after putting on lip gloss. She knew. “And try not to slowly slip into a lifestyle where the only thing you interact with is an inanimate object that has ‘perfect brown curls’ and ‘brown eyes so beautiful and perfect you can just see the life!’” He did a horrible impersonation of her, but he got his point across either way. However, Erica just giggled at him and walked away from the table.

Once Derek had finished his drink and the dessert in front of him, he threw the tip on the table and left the restaurant. Annnndd shit. It was raining outside. Of Course! Of course, the one day he had walked and not placed an umbrella in his brief case. What had the weatherman said? Beautiful, sunny forecast for the rest of the day? The man should be fired.

Knowing it wouldn’t help much, but still not convinced enough not to try, Derek grabbed a newspaper from the cart next to him and held it up over his head before stepping out into the rain. It soaked through both paper and clothes immediately, and he held back every curse he suddenly felt the urge to say in that moment. Maybe he should get a cab? But no, it would be a crazy high price for a cab, and he was only going a couple of blocks. There would be no point. With that in mind, he gave a conceding sigh that he was going to walk in the rain and made off toward his apartment at a fast pace.

About a block away, Derek was shivering in his soaked clothes and grumbling to himself about weather, and weathermen, when he noticed something in the middle of the street. It was too large to be a cat, which made him jump to the idea that it was an injured dog making him rush over. Absolutely no hurt dog was getting ignored on his account. Especially out here in the rain, he just hoped that he wasn’t already too late to do anything about it. But as he got closer, the thing moved. And no, it wasn’t a dog either. Derek completely froze as the dark object shifted up onto its hands and knees, lifted its head, and reached a hand out for him. 

It was a boy in a red hoodie and jeans, the hood thrown up over his head, for what Derek assumed was to keep the rain off of him.

A body? He just found a body. Oh God, did he just become a witness to a hit and run? Attempted murder? A mugging? Oh God, what should he do? Call the police? Go to the police? Walk away? What if whoever did it came after him too? But then Derek realized the guy was crawling toward him, knocked him out of his thoughts and he jumped into gear, half running over to him. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, trying not to sound too panicked. He kneeled, opened his arms, scanned the boy’s body, but he wasn’t sure where to go from there. Check for injuries?

“H-Help,” was all he said. In fact, he kept repeating “h-help. H-help. H-help. H-help.” As if the guy didn’t know any other word. Derek’s heart raced and he looked around quickly, as if waiting for someone to jump out at him. Then the guy reached Derek and collapsed into his arms. Full on passed out on top of him in soaking wet clothes and a lingering echo of him begging for help.

For a moment, Derek remained completely still, completely frozen in his spot. The guy was thin, really thin, but for some reason he was so incredibly heavy that Derek wasn’t sure if he would be able to pick him up and carry him. There was no way he could get him to a hospital, but he might be able to get him to his apartment. Would be better to examine him for blood there, and Derek could call 911 in a safer location instead of the middle of the street. So, Derek did his best to lift the both of them from the ground, picking the boy up as best he could while also holding his briefcase as he made his way home. This was an absolute nightmare, and he still felt like he was being watched, like someone was following him.

“How do you-guh,” Derek struggled with getting the boy through the door to his apartment. “Weigh so much?” They both practically fell through the door as Derek tugged, and it slammed behind them with a loud clack. Maybe he should be a bit gentler? What if he hurt the boy more?

Sighing, he slowly walked the body inside and dropped him onto the couch in a sitting position, but the boy immediately fell over, slouched in soaking clothes against leather. Derek was totally going to make him pay for any damages done to the couch.

“Okay, now where are you hurt? Can I wake you up?” He asked, lightly tapping the boy’s cheek. He didn’t move. “Did you die on me?” Derek asked then, narrowing his eyes. With no answer, Derek slowly reached down and pressed his fingers to the boy’s wrist. His skin was warm, definitely warm against Derek’s own freezing cold, rain-drenched skin, but there was no pulse. How could he be warm and yet have no pulse? “Shit, shit, shit, do not die on me!” He said then, moving to tap the boy’s cheek again. “What did you even die from?”

Quickly, Derek grabbed his phone to call for an ambulance while he fumbled with the bottom of the boy’s hoodie, figuring he could probably take it off him to check and see if he was bleeding anywhere that Derek couldn’t see. But when he first saw the skin of the boy’s stomach, barely a sliver of flesh, Derek paused, allowing the phone to drop to the ground. There were lines. Silver colored lines underneath his skin, and they seemed to glow. It was a faint glow, but definitely there.

Knitting his brow together, Derek pulled the hoodie up a bit more, unable to admit to himself yet what he knew. He examined the top of the boy’s hip, but it didn’t show the telltale sign of a Weretech model. There was no QR code there to scan for a buyer. There wasn’t even a sign that one had been there and somehow taken off. Still, Derek pulled the hoodie back down and moved to pick up the boy’s foot. QR code or not, the boy still had the charge port on the back of his ankle, which Derek inspected after he flipped up the small patch of synthetic skin covering it. It didn’t look damaged. But this kid was actually a Weretech model. Why the hell was it wandering around out in the rain? Was it lost? Did the rain short-circuit it? Did water even affect the models? No, he had heard of people showering with their computers, so water didn’t hurt them.

This was so far out of his area of expertise. He quickly picked up the phone again, but instead of calling for an ambulance, he dialed the first person he could think of that might be able to help him out with this. Derek wondered if he needed to charge the thing, if that was why it wasn’t responding. “Hey, I know we were just together, but I kind of really need your help right now. Could you bring Allison and all her stuff?” Derek asked over the phone.

Erica arrived in a timely manner, Allison walking right behind her in a bright pink sundress and carrying her charging platform with various manuals on top of it. “So what did you need my help with, Derek?” Erica asked before she glanced at the body on the couch. “Who is that? And what did you do to him?”

“It’s not a ‘him,’ it’s a what,” Derek answered, ignoring Erica’s eye roll at the comment and looking from Allison to the drenched computer to Erica. “I found it in the street. I think it’s a lost model, but I also think it lost power. I can’t wake it up. Do you think we could charge him with Allison’s stuff and maybe get him back to his owner?”

“Yeah, we can probably do that,” Erica answered him.

Allison walked in, smiled sweetly at Derek and placed the charging platform on the ground next to the machine. Erica walked up next to her and grabbed the extension cord from the back of the platform and plugged it into the closest wall, while Allison flipped up the flap on the back of the computer’s ankle and plugged a small, thin cord into the port there. Derek seriously doubted that little cord would be enough to charge anything as big as the computer on the couch, but hey, he wasn’t tech savvy.

“Hey, Erica, what does it mean when they don’t have that tattoo you check them out with?” He asked, looking over at his friend while she pulled out a manual to look through.

Erica giggled while pulling open the cover. “All of the models have a QR code, Derek. It’s how you buy them. They have never made a model without one.”

“But he doesn’t have one on his hip,” Derek stated.

“Maybe it’s somewhere else?”

“Maybe,” he mumbled. Derek moved then to look at the computer’s wrists and his ankles, though there weren’t many places to look without him having to move the drenched clothes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to impose on the computer’s privacy?

Allison, however, did not think the same and pulled the hood off of the machine’s head. “He is an unrecognizable model,” she stated plainly while tilting her head. For a moment, there was a mechanical sound and small concentric circles began to flash in her eyes. “There is nothing in the database that fits any of his features. According to this, he should not exist.”

“What?” Derek asked, slowly looking up from examining the back of the computer’s other ankle. Derek hadn’t wanted to take the model’s hood off. Maybe because he feared that he would find the back of its head smashed in or something. Android or not, that would still be pretty terrifying. Why? He didn’t know. It was a machine, not a person. Maybe it was the idea that someone wanted to hurt something so human looking? But seeing the face now, Derek took a moment to examine it, his breath catching quickly. Computer or not, it was beautiful. It looked soft, calm, and so human, so the point that Derek felt unnerved. Its lips were parted, and they looked so real, and pink, and even seemed to move just slightly like it was breathing. It had a lot of moles, which was odd, because most models didn’t have any skin ‘imperfections.’ They were supposed to be perfect, clear, crisp looking things. Perfect in their human features making them look incredibly inhuman. But not this model. Apart from the slight silver glow of his circuits acting like veins, this model looked real.

“I said that the model is not a Weretech model,” Allison answered, looking down at Derek with confusion perfectly sculpted on her features.

“That’s impossible,” Erica said, standing up and walking over to the group by the couch. “I don’t think people have what it takes to build a home model this well. People have tried, and everything that I’ve seen has failed.” The blonde slowly reached out and touched the computer’s skin and set to examining it herself.

Allison pulled away to give Erica space to look at it, her hands folding together perfectly in front of her. “That may be so, but the creator of this model seems to have succeeded. He does not belong to the Weretech line,” she answered quietly.

There was an awkward silence before Erica finally stood up and looked to Derek who was still gaping on the ground, holding the machine’s foot in his hands. “Derek, I don’t know what the hell you found, but he was maybe on the street for a reason? I’ve heard of people messing with the idea of the humanoid computers, and they do weird shit to them. Install weird programs. Maybe you should just throw him back on the street?” Then she leaned down to unplug the cord. But when her fingers just reached it, the computer’s hand lightly landed on her shoulder.

“H-help. L-lost,” it stuttered. The two humans in the room both paused and looked up at the computer’s face. His eyes were barely open, but it was clear he was staring at Derek. 

Erica pulled her hand away from the cord and looked at him. “Serial number and name,” she said in a voice a bit louder than normal.

“L-lost,” was all it managed to say again.

Freezing in place, she glanced back at Derek, who was slowly standing up from his spot. “What’s wrong with it?” He asked her. Erica shrugged her shoulders and repeated the question.  
“Restoration at ten percent,” the computer answered, eyes fluttering and the same concentric circles as Allison flashed in its eyes.

“He is trying to repair his data. He must have been injured in some way, or he might be afraid for his motherboard. It will take a while for him to reboot. He must not have been through normal shut down procedure,” Allison informed Derek, trying to give him a perfect, reassuring smile.

“Do we turn him off? Unplug him? What if he’s like you said? What if he has some weird kind of program?” Derek asked, looking over at Erica.

But the blonde simply shrugged and walked back over to her manuals. “You can always hope that he lost memory of the program? Or the reason that he’s repairing his data is to try and remove any harmful programs, who knows? Here.” She held out a book to Derek. One that read ‘Weretech for Dummies’ and grinned. “I got this for you a while ago. I was waiting until you had one of your own.”

Derek was not amused.

An hour later, the computer was still checking itself, and it didn’t seem to be running as quickly as it should. He hadn’t announced any more restoration, which according to the manual, meant that there probably hadn’t been any great improvement. Maybe the computer really was severely damaged? Maybe he should just unplug it and throw it back onto the street? But wouldn’t that kind of be the same as littering?

Finally, the computer’s skin seemed to flash lightly. “Restoration at twenty percent. Basic verbal programs repaired, basic motor function software intact.”

“Awesome,” Erica grinned and she got up from where she had been scanning through various model looks over the last five years. “Serial number and name,” she finally said again.

The computer tilted his head to look at her and gave a smile. It was lopsided, not perfect like Allison’s smile. “No trace of serial number could be found.”

Derek noticed the way that Erica seemed to tense, look confused. Allison looked confused too. The computer turned to look at Derek once more. Wondering if it would answer to him too, he simply asked, “um, do you have a name?”

Skin flashing a bit brighter this time, the computer’s smile widened. “My name is Stiles.”


	2. Instant Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Derek has brought Stiles home and charged him, he absolutely regrets bringing Stiles into his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So here is the second chapter. Stiles isn't fully 'Stiles' yet because he hasn't recovered a lot of his information. Derek seriously doesn't know anything about technology.

Another hour into figuring out whose model Stiles was, Derek was regretting his decision to actually bring ‘Stiles’ into his apartment. First of all, Stiles? Really? What kind of a name was Stiles? But the name wasn’t half as annoying as the rest of the machine. Derek was absolutely certain that he had figured out the reason why Stiles was out on the street instead of comfortably inside someone’s house on a charging platform. It talked. And not just light conversation. The moment Stiles’ verbal systems were repaired was the moment Derek began hating his life.

The worst part of it was that Stiles’ memory still hadn’t been fully repaired. It had a general fuzzy knowledge of what things were, but it couldn’t always place words for them. Just because it could speak, and in many different languages, did not mean that it knew everything. It could string words together, but it couldn’t remember certain objects and what to call them. And even worse, it couldn’t remember anything more about it than its name. It couldn’t recall where it lived, who its creator was, who its owner was, or what it had been doing in the street in the pouring down rain. It couldn’t even remember what he had been doing ever since it was made. There was absolutely no recollection of having a ‘life’ before Derek recharged him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Cannot compute information,” is what it replied with when first asked where it came from. It was the answer he (very annoyingly) continued to use and seemed satisfied with when asked other questions about its ‘life.’ After that, he would go ranting on about some object in Derek’s apartment. (The way that you have this set up is very interesting. You know, I don’t think you have an interior decorating flare. The way you have that-that thing- over there? Paired with this other uh-chair? It just doesn’t look good. How did I not remember chair, that’s such an easy one! Why is everything gray? I mean, based on the emotional reads I am getting from your-you know, uh, facial-uh face, I am not surprised. Not that that’s a bad thing! I am going to go ahead and hope that somewhere in my memory I can recall people in history that were very famous and very serious.”)

“Oh. My. God,” Erica stressed, placing her hands on her temples. “Shut him up. Shut him down. Do something!” Large eyes practically begged Derek.

So, he sighed and got up and walked over to Stiles, who smiled as if more than happy to see him. “Could you show me where your power button is?” He asked while scanning Stiles’ body to try and find one.

The model’s face dropped, and it almost stung how human it looked. The machine looked offended, hurt, like Derek just told him to drop off the face of the Earth. “I don’t have a power button,” the model answered. Both Erica and Derek stared at him.

“What do you mean you don’t have a power button?” Derek asked while Erica stated at the same time, “every model has a power button.”

Thinking that it was a good enough answer, Stiles simply shrugged its shoulders and focused back on Derek. The human became annoyed and confused at the fact that Stiles kept watching him, smiling at him. He wasn’t used to the attention, okay? Even if it was from an android. He might as well have found an injured puppy in the street, it would probably react the same way. Derek continued to stare at, what, his new computer? Before he saw Erica gesturing for Allison to come over.

Smiling, Allison walked over slowly and tilted her head to the side, allowing Erica to gently place a hand on the back of her neck and turn her around. There, she opened another small flap of skin, similar to the ankle where the charging port was located, to reveal a small compartment. There was a barely there button with a power sign, almost indistinguishable because there was maybe one pigment’s worth of a change of color from skin tone. “Right here, Stiles. Do you have a power button here?” She asked.

Then the computer almost looked annoyed. It placed a hand on the back of its neck and shook its head. “I already told you. I don’t have a power button. I was not created with one. I am not meant to shut down.”

“You can remember that but you can’t remember who made you?” Derek asked it, narrowing his eyes.

When Stiles grinned, Derek snorted and muttered “convenient,” under his breath.

Once again, Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Derek quickly reached his hand out and clapped it over the machine’s lips. “Do not. Do not start talking again. Just, talk less.” He demanded; bring his hand away from the model. It looked hurt, but it nodded anyway and Derek took a breath. Okay, now they could get some quiet and be able to figure everything out. Stiles remained seated on the couch, hooked up to the charging platform. The glow of its skin seemed to fade away for the most part, but occasionally it would flash a silver light all over.

Sitting down next to Erica again, Derek grabbed the book she got him (even if the title was offensive, it was still super useful) and continued to flip through it. All of this was hard to understand because he didn’t have a computer base to judge anything on. He managed to read through a few more pages before Erica groaned and rubbed her eyes.  
“I’m sorry, man. I need to go home and get some sleep. Don’t you have work tomorrow? Shouldn’t you sleep to?” She asked, looking from Derek to Stiles. “Though I really wouldn’t want to sleep myself with some strange, moving computer in my house. We still don’t know what kind of programs he runs. When he finishes restoring, give me a call and I can help you check it out. I know a couple of other people I can call for help too if you want.”

Sucking in a breath, Derek slowly looked up at her. He didn’t want her to leave him alone with Stiles, no. But it wasn’t like she wouldn’t come if called. And he wasn’t exactly worried that Stiles was programmed to be some kind of killer robot. Oddly enough, that was just a little too sci-fi for his tastes. Plus the machine did just go on about how much prettier Derek’s apartment would be if it was painted a nice shade of blue. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I don’t really want anyone else to know about it until it figures itself out.”  
Again, Erica made a face at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, I am so not helping you out if you continue to call him an ‘it,’ Derek. He has a name. He has the same general physical form as you.” As she gestured to Stiles’ body, her face transformed in something dangerously close to a pout, which in turn, made Derek glare. Just because she called Allison ‘she’ didn’t mean he needed to address Stiles as a ‘he.’

“It’s a machine. It doesn’t have feelings. It doesn’t know whether I am calling it ‘it’ or ‘he.’ It doesn’t even know where it came from,” Derek answered, stressing his choice of pronoun as much as possible. Turning his attention to Stiles once more, he ignored the hurt look it seemed to keep doing. “Do you know the difference? Do you want me to address you as ‘he?’” Why was he even asking approval from the machine?

“Actually,” Stiles answered, almost hesitantly, like he was scared to bother Derek. “I do prefer the gender pronoun ‘he.’ I am not an ‘it,’ I have a specific mind set of characteristics of generalized and occasionally stereotypical male. I also take on the male physique. I am quite anatomically correct. I can show—“

“No!” Derek answered, holding up his hand as if he could force Stiles to stop with a motion. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll address you like a human, because apparently you think you are one.” Although, Derek wasn’t sure why he was fighting this as much as he was. God, he addressed his car as “she” all the time, and not only that but called her ‘baby’ and ‘beauty.’ There had been plenty of points in his life where Derek had referred to inanimate objects like they were people. So why was it so hard now? Why was Stiles different? Was it because Stiles looked so human that he might forget it actually wasn’t?

Erica gave a small laugh with a shake of her head before she gathered a few books up and stood from the ground. “Alright, you get to deal with the rest of this on your own. Call me if he tries to kill you, and play nice. Congratulations on your new computer by the way.” She grinned and lightly intertwined her fingers with Allison’s. “I need to get my own home. Don’t worry about the charge port, I’ll go get another one tomorrow. I think you might need it more anyway. He shouldn’t be fully charged for a few more hours. They charge for about 8, just like how we’re supposed to sleep, even though that totally never works.”

And with that, she was walking out of the door with her computer following behind. Derek sighed and faced Stiles now that he had nothing else to distract him from the model. Stiles just smiled back at him, but still managed to look like he wanted to talk, say something, chat Derek’s ear off.

“What?” Derek asked, rolling his eyes.

With permission granted, Stiles asked, “do you think I could get some new clothes? These ones are wet and I don’t entirely like wearing them.”

“You don’t like wearing your clothes?” Derek questioned, raising his eyebrows quickly. And Stiles shook his head in response. “You’re a machine, and you don’t like wearing your clothes because you can have an opinion on the matter?”

“Yes I can, and they’re wet. It’s uncomfortable.” Stiles stated like it was perfectly normal for a thing made of metal to dislike something because it was wet. Could he even /feel/ the dampness? Was his synthetic skin that sensitive? Did he actually have the ability to process things like being uncomfortable? Suddenly, Derek found himself really wishing that Erica hadn’t left yet.

“Fine. I’ll go get you some new clothes. After that, I am going to bed. Okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles smiled a lopsided smile at him.

Grumbling, Derek made his way upstairs and found clothes that he felt would fit Stiles in his room, even if they were a little big. He also grabbed a towel for good measure. Downstairs, he heard Stiles say “restoration at thirty percent” and then he was silent again. What in the world had suddenly happened that managed Derek to land in this situation? When Derek descended the stairs, Stiles was standing, and also peeling his sweatshirt off his body, a plain blue t-shirt underneath that.

“Here, these might fit you,” Derek told him and threw the clothes onto the arm of the couch.

“Thank you, Grumpy,” Stiles told him and pulled off his t-shirt as well. The skin around his torso was pale, and was also doted moles, but other than that it was flawless. There didn’t seem to be any seams that suggested the skin was synthetic. There wasn’t any sign that Stiles wasn’t human beside the fact that his ‘veins’ occasionally decided to glow this light silver instead of look like they had blood in them.

“Grumpy?” Derek asked, his features taking an embodiment of the name. “Did you just call me ‘Grumpy?’”

“You haven’t properly introduced yourself to me with your name, and ‘Grumpy’ kind of suits you,” the computer grinned. Man, he was really irritating.

Derek snorted and crossed his arms over his chest while Stiles managed to pull the t-shirt Derek gave him on over his head. It definitely was a bit big on him, but Stiles looked pleased with it nonetheless. But after the shirt was on, Derek looked away, feeling awkward to watch him change, even if Derek still thought of him as a machine. He was a very attractive robot still, and Derek did not feel like getting any ideas about him. “My name is Derek. Hi,” he answered, listening to Stiles unplug his cord just long enough to switch dampened jeans for sweatpants, then he was plugging himself back in. Fairly self-sufficient model. Didn’t Erica need a special program to allow Allison to do some things on her own? It was fairly expressive too, from what he remembered. And even then, she didn’t think like that on her own.

“Pleasure to meet you, Derek,” Stiles answered him, and slowly brought his arms out to examine himself in the clothes. It was enough movement to get Derek to look at him again. Actually, he didn’t look too bad in an old, worn out baseball shirt and sweatpants. You know, if Derek cared to objectify a robot.

“Sure,” was all the human said at first, but when Stiles smiled back up at him, he added on, “are you programmed to smile that much? It’s kind of overwhelming.”

The smile dropped to confusion, and Stiles seemed at a loss for words. It was a miracle. “Oh,” he started. “No, I’m just happy.” There was the grin again.

“Happy? You can’t be happy. You can’t feel.”

And then again with the hurt look. God, this robot definitely went through the emotions of a person. And Derek was never really good with people or technology. Apparently that extended enough to Weretechs as well, because it was looking like Stiles was combined of everything that confused Derek about both things.

“I think I feel happy,” Stiles mumbled. The comment was enough to make Derek decide that he just wanted to retire for the night. He was so completely, utterly done with the day and he needed rest. Without another word, he flipped off the light and turned to go back upstairs.

“Wait, wait!” Stiles said suddenly, his voice much louder than before. His skin was letting off a light glow to the now dark room. “Where are you going? Are you just going to leave me down here?”

Derek was going to kill him. Definitely kill him, since shutting him down obviously wasn’t going to work. But would it really be murder if Stiles wasn’t alive? He could and should just unplug him. Unplug him and leave him back out in the rain.

A frustrated sigh left his mouth before he could process words. “I’m going to bed. I just told you I was going to bed. And yes, I am going to just leave you down here. I only have one bedroom, and one bed. Even if you were a person, I would still make you sleep on the couch. But since you won’t be sleeping anyway, and you aren’t, in fact, a person, the couch seems more than perfect.”

The look on Stiles’ face would be enough to make anyone’s knees buckle with guilt for something they didn’t even do. Was he programmed to guilt trip? Derek sucked in a breath, a hand rising to his head to just gently rub at one of his temples. “Bring the platform upstairs. You can charge in my room. If you keep me awake, I will find some way to shut you down. Possibly permanently.” Good, threaten the possibly killer robot. Great move, Derek.

The model nodded quickly while leaning down to unplug himself from the charging platform. “Don’t worry, I promise not to ramble while you sleep. In fact, if you would like I can hack into your neighbor’s Internet and choose some music that might help you sleep? Or would you prefer a book on tape? You seem like the kind of guy to like a book on tape. Oh, wow, I remember what a book is. I think I am getting more of my memory back.” He grinned, yanking out the plug from the wall and picking up the charging platform.

“Good, then I can take you back to whoever made you,” Derek mumbled. He chose to ignore all of Stiles’ questions though.

Stiles looked panicked, suddenly, but it was for a short, split second and then he was back to smiling. The machine fumbled with the charging platform on his way over to the stairs, and Derek allowed him to go first before following up after him.

“Is anything in your apartment decorated?” Stiles asked, walking into a room that had absolutely nothing on the walls. Derek’s bed had dark blue sheets. The walls were gray. The only color in the room came from a red lamp by the bed and the books on the bookshelves.

“You’re a computer, why do you care about decoration so much?” Derek snorted before reaching behind his back to pull his shirt off.

“I mean, I guess I don’t necessarily. But I do know that decoration and color can help influence human emotions and, seriously, by looking more at your apartment I understand why you’re so grumpy,” Stiles informed him. When the machine looked at Derek (who was now shirtless and feeling like he was being dissected), he tilted his head, the concentric circles in his eyes flashing momentarily. “You are in peak physical condition for a human. Your muscle structure is sculpture worthy.”

Did a robot just hit on him? Derek stared at Stiles, mouth agape, unsure of how to comment on that. “Thanks?” he finally settled on. But Stiles still looked fairly pleased with himself. In fact, he gave Derek a thumbs up and a wink. What the actual fuck? Alright, he was going to bed. When he would wake up in the morning there would be no strangely attractive robot in his room. There would be no evidence that what was happening was actually happening. Nothing would be this awkward.

The human crawled onto his bed and pulled the sheets up to his chin while watching Stiles plug everything back in. A part of Derek wanted to face his new companion just in case Stiles tried to charge him during the night. But the machine stood on the platform as he was supposed to and closed his eyes. “So, did you want me to access a book on tape for you?” He asked, almost sweetly.

Sighing, and mostly just about to say yes to anything, Derek grumbled, nodded and placed a hand over his eyes. Having a book on tape read to him while he fell asleep didn’t actually sound half bad. Maybe that was a part of owning a Weretech model he could get used to. But Stiles wasn’t a Weretech model. Stiles was some home creation that might be programmed to murder him. Why did he agree to let him stay in his room again?

There was a mechanical noise from the corner of the room, and Stiles’ eyelids fluttered while remaining closed, as if he were deep in the REM cycle. When he began speaking again, his voice was smooth. “First the colors. Then the humans. That’s usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try…” came the first lines of The Book Thief. It was a book that Derek always meant to read but never got around to. He recognized it because he had read the first page several times in the attempt to start reading, but he always had to put it down for one reason or another. Why had Stiles picked that one?

Not that it mattered. In the next few minutes, Derek was asleep.

When Stiles paused in his reading, he examined the sleeping form in front of him and quieted down.

“Goodnight, Derek,” he told the human softly.


	3. Technologic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Stiles is on the way to restoration, Derek needs to get to work on figuring out who his real owner is, and fast. He isn't sure if he can handle Stiles trying to do things for him and actually become his personal model. Derek was never meant to have some kind of device that could talk to him. Erica suggests taking Stiles to see Doctor Deaton, and it's not a half-bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here is chapter three! I hope you all enjoy. I have been writing away in between editing.

In the morning, Derek woke by bringing the back of his hand lazily up to his eyes and rubbing at them. Glancing at the clock, he frowned when he realized that it was still five minutes until his alarm was going to go off. He hated when that happened, and it seemed to happen every morning. Why couldn’t he just sleep until his “Walk in the forest” alarm played as soft piano and bird whistles brought him from it?

Grumbling, he moved from the bed, sucking in a breath when his feet hit the cool wood floor while he tried to stretch his arms into the air. Derek was most certainly not a morning person, and having to wake up to go to sit in an office all day was fairly irritating. At least he could occasionally get out to eat at lunch.

He looked up, eyes still half lidded with sleep when he noticed the charging platform was empty. Immediately, thoughts of the previous day came flooding back to him and he jumped up from the bed. Where was Stiles? Maybe he had restored and went back to find his proper owner? Could he do that?

Derek grabbed the nearest shirt and threw it on while opening the door to his room. He hadn’t closed it when he came to bed last night, which of course meant Stiles must have. But he was suddenly hit with a fantastic smell coming from the lower level of his apartment. He knew before actually having to see it, but he also hoped it wasn’t the case because he didn’t feel like a computer cooking was exactly a good thing. He was too late to have a say though, because upon reaching downstairs, there was Stiles, still in Derek’s clothes and standing next to the stove with a pan of something sizzling and steaming.

So what? Did people get Weretechs to use as computers or did they get them to help them around the house with chores? Why spend that much money to just use them as a maid or butler? That couldn’t be what they were made for. Slowly, Derek walked over, a heel of his palm rubbing at his temple because, God, he already had a headache. “Stiles,” he said looking the scene over again quickly.

The machine straightened and turned to Derek, his usual bright grin on his face. “Derek! Good morning. I decided to make you breakfast as a thanks. I also picked out a suit that seemed to match best with your skin tones and coloration, and a blue tie to work well with your eyes. It is waiting in the closet for you. I would also like to let you know that my restoration is on the way. I have restored 40% of the way, it seems to be taking longer the higher the percentage. But the reason I am telling you this is because I have had other functions restored, things that may help you with your job. I can create a schedule for you and plan important dates that you need. Meetings especially. I—“

Derek clamped a hand over his mouth again, eyes closed in a painful expression because he could not deal with more of this, and definitely not this early in the morning. Stiles being around him was enough; Stiles trying to become his personal something was not in the plans. No, Derek needed to get the machine back as quickly as he could. “Stiles, stop. Thank you for making breakfast for me—“

“It was the least I could do for you helping me!” Stiles answered, muffled through Derek’s hand.

“—But I don’t need you doing all of this stuff for me. I can make my own breakfast. I can pick out my own clothes. You seem capable enough. Do something you want to do.”  
“But,” Stiles started, slowly pulling Derek’s hand away from his mouth. “This is what I want to do. I was programmed and created to help with things like this. To make your life easier.”

“My life is fine, Stiles. I like doing the things that I do.” He sighed, frustrated before glancing at the food that was in the pan. Eggs and bacon, simple, but it looked really good and smelled even better. Normally Derek just ate yogurt or cereal for breakfast. Having a real breakfast was something new to him. “I keep a personal date book with me to plan every meeting I have or dates that I have. Okay? Besides, I’m putting up lost posters for you the minute I get home. Until then just, take a vacation or something?”

Caught between looking hurt, confused, and curious, Stiles stood there staring at Derek. It was like he couldn’t compute that someone didn’t want his help, or that he was being asked to relax. He nodded slowly and went to get a plate from the cabinet. Derek had the strange feeling that maybe Stiles didn’t have such a good previous owner. But no, he couldn’t think about stuff like that. Stiles was a machine. Stiles didn’t have feelings. Stiles was programmed to think he felt things. But the problem was, Stiles seemed to have more emotions than a human. So how could Derek keep from wanting to empathize or sympathize with him? This may be trickier than he thought.

“I want you to stay here, understood?” Derek asked. “While I’m at work? Don’t let anyone in, and don’t go anywhere. “

“Promise,” Stiles answered, scooping eggs and bacon onto the plate. “I won’t go anywhere and I won’t let anyone in. I will ‘relax.’” He smirked and handed the plate over to Derek. “You know that, as a machine, I cannot relax, right?”

“Yeah, well, you want me to treat you like a human, then you better start acting like a human. That includes jumping for joy at the opportunity to take a vacation day. So start to look more excited about it.”

When Stiles nodded and grinned at him, Derek got the feeling that everything he had just said to the machine went right over his head, and the only reason he might act happy about having time off was because Derek told him to. Great. Eager to please.

“Affirmative, sir. I am looking forward to my day of relaxation.”

Yep. Definitely only enjoying it because Derek asked him to. Sighing, Derek scribbled down his number on a piece of paper, wondering if Stiles would even need it. He also included his e-mail, because that might be easier for Stiles to use. Did a computer need emergency numbers? He probably had all of the important ones already in his mind. Derek’s probably didn’t matter, but still.

After Derek ate, which he thanked Stiles for as the computer preened, he went upstairs to figure out which suit Stiles had picked out for him to wear. His favorite one was neatly splayed over a chair. It was interesting that Stiles picked his favorite, but maybe it was his favorite because he usually got so many compliments in it, and as Stiles said it ‘matched best with his skin tones.’ He dressed and moved back downstairs, grabbing his briefcase and getting his shoes on.

“That tie isn’t tied accurately,” Stiles said, drying off his hand on towel and moving over to Derek.

The human sighed and stood up, trying to give Stiles a look that showed he just did not care and he was going to be late for work. But Derek didn’t say anything to stop him. Stiles moved close to him, taking the tie much more gently between his fingers than Derek believed something made of metal and synthetic skin should be able to. The android pulled the knot in his tie apart and carefully pulled it back together into a perfect Full Windsor. When he was finished, he straightened out Derek’s collar.

It felt more intimate than it should, at least from Derek’s point of view. Stiles seemed far too focused on making sure Derek’s outfit looked absolutely ship shape to take in their proximity, or the fact that Stiles was just didn’t mind touching him, wasn’t bothered by the closeness. But he wasn’t real. Of course Stiles wouldn’t care about the fact that he was greatly invading Derek’s personal bubble. Derek shouldn’t care about it either. But he couldn’t avoid looking at Stiles, taking in random features about him. Stiles worried at his lip, even though the synthetic skin bent with his teeth smoothly rather than tore like human lips. They were soft, perfect, all of the looks of a human but none of the draw backs. And Stiles, well, him worrying at his lip like that was endearing.

It was at that moment that Derek realized he needed to get laid. It had been an extremely long time, and here he was close to something that looked so good but wasn’t even real and he was honing in on Stiles’ lips. Was that also what these Weretechs were created for? Computers that people could bang?

It wasn’t hard to believe, and while Derek had heard a few times that people did develop various relationships with their Weretech models, he didn’t think they were specifically designed for that. They shouldn’t be. Though Stiles did tell him the previous day that he was built anatomically correct and he of course knew that people showered with their models occasionally (even if he had hoped it was just because people were so busy they felt they needed to have their computers with them at all times).

The thought made him pale, and Derek couldn’t imagine himself deciding that he was in a relationship with a machine. He liked things that could feel back, and give him real consent and not just because they were programmed to. How would he even--? Nope. Not getting into that train of thought.

“Thanks, Stiles. I’ll see you when I get home,” he said, his voice now feeling awkward and strained while he backed away from the model. Stiles raised his eyebrows slowly before nodding his head in agreement. Derek tried not to notice that Stiles looked lost, confused, and he imagined at what Stiles would do while he was gone at work. For some reason he couldn’t shake that Stiles would remain where he stood, the same look on his face for hours.

At work, Derek decided to give Erica a call and fill her in on the details of Stiles. She laughed at the fact that Stiles charged in Derek’s room, wondering if he kept a knife under his pillow just in case. She also wondered how long it took for his restoration to finish, and when Derek told her that he hadn’t finished, she seemed more than a bit nervous about it. Or maybe confused. Either way, she agreed to help with putting up lost posters, and would even rope Isaac and Boyd into helping, which Derek was more than pleased with. Humans to talk to. That definitely sounded good.

“Since he’s a home model, maybe you could take him to Doctor Deaton himself?” Erica suggested. It was something that Derek hadn’t really thought about. But now that the idea was in his head, why didn’t Derek try to take Stiles to see him? Maybe Deaton would be able to tell Derek more about his inner workings. Would Deaton even see someone for something like this?

Once Erica hung up, Derek decided to look Doctor Deaton up. Derek knew what he was required to for work when it came to computers. He knew how to use the Internet, he knew how to use Excel and Word. So he at least knew how to Google this guy. But he got a million pages to look at when he did, and a lot of them were news articles that he didn’t understand half of. Either way, Derek was at least able to find an office number to call.

“You’ve reached the offices of Weretech Inc. My name is Marin, how may I help you?” A soothing voice said over the phone.

Derek paused for a moment before he cleared his throat. Why hadn’t he expected anyone to answer? “Hi, my name is Derek Hale. I recently found a model in the street and—“

The woman gave a sigh as if she seemed frustrated that he was bothering her with this. “All models are able to recognize where their registered address is, and if they do not remember they will know their serial number, name, and the owner’s name.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve already tried that and it didn’t work,” Derek said, trying not to become too irritated at the tone of her voice. “I wanted to talk to you about it because he’s a fully functional model that wasn’t made by Weretech. I was wondering if there was some way that I could bring him in? I’m not very good with computers.”

With another sigh, Marin paused like she seemed to be wondering if she should let Derek do that. Maybe she was looking at a calendar? “Look sir, I am sorry to disappoint you but I am not actually the person that normally answers the phones. I don’t have access to appointments scheduled for Doctor Deaton, I know my own appointments. What exactly do you want done with this particular model?”

“I just want to find out who he belongs to, to be honest,” Derek answered.

“Fine. I will be able to assist you with that. But if you want any of his parts looked at, that’s something for Doctor Deaton to look into. I can only assess the mental state of the models and make sure their neurological simulation functions are working as they are supposed to. Derek Hale, I have you marked down for noon tomorrow. There will not be another time available, take it or leave it.”

“I take it,” Derek told her, scribbling down the time. He didn’t need an address. He knew where their offices were. Everyone knew where their offices were. He would be sure to drag Erica along just for safe measure. “Thank you, Marin.”

“We live to please, Mr. Hale. It’s why we created Weretech to begin with.” And then she hung up, just like that. Her parting words sounded a lot like Stiles.

Sighing softly, Derek glanced at his phone one more time. He would need to ask for work off the next day. It wouldn’t be a problem, Derek never took a sick day. He just couldn’t believe that he was taking his first sick day off to take some model he found on the street to the offices of one of the most technologically savvy men on the planet. He’d much rather be reading a book or something.

The rest of the day went fairly quickly after that, and Derek even managed to create a “LOST MODEL” poster for Stiles. Would the company care if he used their copier to make two-hundred or so copies? Sure, why not? He spent too many hours at work, and though he was paid fairly well, that didn’t mean the pay covered all the hours of overtime. He could use some hundred sheets of company paper and a lot of company ink just this once.

When he was packing up to head back to his apartment, he got a call from an unknown number. Flicking his phone open, Derek pinched it between his ear and shoulder while he continued packing. “Hello?” He asked, ignoring how his voice always shifted higher while he was on the phone.

“Derek?” Came a familiar voice, a Stiles voice. “Hi, sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to know when you were coming home? I think I have relaxed all I can manage to.”

Oddly enough, the comment made the tips of Derek’s lips tilt up. Did he really just smile at a machine? “I’m packing up now, Stiles. I’ll be home shortly. Okay?”

“Sounds great! I’ll start dinner for you!” And before Derek could protest, Stiles shut off whatever he was using to get in contact with him. Derek snorted fondly at his phone while placing it back in his pocket.

“You seeing someone, Hale?” Asked a voice behind him. Derek jumped and whipped around to see a co-worker he (very) occasionally talked to. Deucalion. Weird name, but he was a pretty cool guy, if not a little full of himself about ninety percent of the time.

“What?” Derek asked, knitting his brow together before he looked down at his pocket. It was a bit of a personal question, wasn't it? “Oh, no. Weirdest thing, I found a model roaming the street last night. He’s at my apartment, called to see when I was coming home.”

“You had a model call to ask when you were coming home?” Deucalion asked, the skepticism in his voice confusing Derek a bit more. Was that not a normal thing for them to do? Man, he really didn’t know anything about these stupid computers. “They can’t think like that. Why didn’t you shut it down before you left the house?”

“He doesn’t like to be shut down?” Derek questioned, grasping at straws. He didn’t want to tell someone he didn’t really trust that much that he had found a model without a power button. Deucalion gave him a weird look anyway.

“Right. Well, enjoy your little model. Must have some pretty good software if it can simulate thinking that well.” Deucalion shrugged and started out for the door. “Also, it’s a machine. Not a person. Just to let you know.”

Derek sighed, strangely feeling like glaring at Deucalion for the comment even though he had thought the same thing the day before (try 20 minutes before). But Stiles had seemed so genuinely worried. Maybe Derek was just seriously lonely. Lacked companionship. Once he got Stiles to his rightful owner, he would definitely set out on a hunt for just…someone.

Upon arriving home, Stiles was cooking in the kitchen. Derek smirked at the grin Stiles gave him when he turned to greet Derek now that he was back. “Yo, Derek, how was your day at work?” Stiles asked, pulling a lid off of something steaming on the stove to stir it.

“Yo? It was fine,” Derek answered. Then he took in a deep breath. Whatever Stiles was cooking actually did smell really great and he was curious. He walked over and looked into the pot. “Green beans?” He asked, because that was not what he smelled.

Stiles grinned and pointed to the oven. “Testing out my colloquial setting; we are all equipped with it. Also, humans need their vegetables. So yes, green beans.”

In response, Derek gave Stiles a bit of a shove, to which Stiles snickered at, while he turned around to pick up one of the missing posters. “What do you think? I did them at work?” Derek said, holding them out. They were black and white, and plain, no picture of Stiles included because Derek didn’t have one. It gave a small description of Stiles, a mention he had been damaged, and Derek’s contact information. Okay, it was the best that he could do on the computer since he didn’t know Photoshop.

The machine seemed to agree that it wasn’t very satisfactory, because he immediately curled a lip at it before looking up at Derek. “You’re going to try and find my owner with this?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Derek questioned in return, looking at the poster for himself.

Handing it back, Stiles sighed and shook his head. How could a machine even sigh? He didn’t have lungs. “It’s not very eye catching. I can clearly see you are incompetent in even the basic principles of graphic design,” Stiles told him, quite bluntly. Derek glared at him.

“It’s not meant to be a work of art, it’s meant to find your owner.”

The look of panic came back, even though Stiles seemed to try and cover it by leaning over the pot, steam covering his face. He remained quiet, and Derek did as well, trying to observe the model’s reactions. What was going on inside his programming?

“Why can’t I just stay with you?” Stiles asked finally, putting the lid back on the pot. “Do you not want me?”

Needless to say, Derek hadn’t been expecting those questions. His lips parted quickly while he looked at Stiles, the model turning to look at him too. No. Stiles couldn’t just stay here. Derek had no need for a computer, especially not a model computer like Stiles. He didn’t want him, didn’t need him. Stiles would be absolutely useless here. But the way Stiles looked, Derek felt his heart sting while he was about to say a straightforward ‘no.’ He stopped himself and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s not that, Stiles. But I didn’t build you, or pay for you. You’re not mine to decide what to do with.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Again, Stiles was silent for a few moments fiddling with the hem of Derek’s shirt he was still wearing. “But what if they didn’t want me?”

True. It was a valid point. What would Derek do if no one called for Stiles? If no one claimed him? Derek took in a breath and shrugged. “Then you stay here. If no one claims you, you can stay with me.”

And then there wasn’t just a grin on Stiles’ face. There was a full blown, genuine smile. Derek’s mind stalled while he looked at Stiles, almost unable to process just how gorgeous this stupid, irritating machine was. He turned away from Stiles because he just needed to get away from him, going to put his briefcase near the coffee table so he could work later, and Stiles prepared dinner for him.

As he ate, Stiles sat across from him at the table again, just like breakfast. It was also just as good as breakfast (even with the green beans), and Derek made sure to thank Stiles. He wasn’t all that positive where the android found the ingredients to make a meal for him, and one that tasted so nice, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. 

Then once he finished, he gathered up the posters so they could head out. Stiles and Derek met Erica and Allison (Erica apologizing because Isaac and Boyd had been busy), and Derek split the pile of paper in half, handing over one half to Erica. The duos divided and began hanging posters so that Derek could at least attempt to find whoever Stiles belonged to. In fact, he was hoping someone recognized him on the street. But no one did.

After three hours of hanging up missing signs, Stiles and Derek made their way back to Derek’s apartment. Derek had maybe even been expecting a call already, but no call came. He resigned himself to keeping Stiles for another night. The machine randomly cleaned things in his apartment, and even helped Derek with a couple of work related things, just basic calculations. It was odd, letting him help, but Derek wouldn’t deny that yeah, it was useful.

Occasionally he would glance over to catch Stiles looking at him. Derek shivered each time with how eerily human he looked, even with the slight glow to his skin. Stiles would quickly look away after they caught eyes though, as if afraid he would make Derek angry by watching him.

Finally, when Derek went to bed, Stiles hooked himself up to the charging platform in his room again. Without even asking Derek’s permission, he picked back up where he left off in the story the previous night. Derek would deny how much of a comfort it was to listen to Stiles read. But it was something that he couldn’t get used to.

Maybe Doctor Deaton could figure out what was up with the model the next day, find out who his owner was. And then Derek would never have to wonder about Stiles again.


	4. The New Wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Derek is able to take Stiles in to see someone at Weretech Inc. But the meeting is much more brief than he would like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this chapter is a little longer, and pulls between Derek adjusting to Stiles and still keeping his same mindset about Stiles being an android. Derek is still asking a lot of questions about Stiles because he's just really confused. Hope you enjoy!

The feeling of arriving at the Weretech headquarters, Derek believed could only possibly be akin to the feeling of seeing the a court house, the Capitol Building, the Pentagon, some equally large, powerful and intimidating building where you knew secret things happened on the other side that you find out. But it wasn’t bad. Weretechnology had advanced the world in a way that no one ever expected. Humanoid computers? Computers with legs, with arms, a voice? And the building seemed to want to be able to display that. Doctor Deaton was powerful, and he was also something to be protected while he continued to change and alter the world.

Derek sucked in a breath while standing before the gate. Stiles stood next to him, less than interested in the building they were about to head into. He seemed far more interested in everything that was around him. Air was apparently more fascinating than going into a building where the most important invention ever made was being improved upon. Then again, Derek was never very interested in his relatives either.

It concerned the human that he hadn’t yet received a call about Stiles. Derek figured that, if someone lost their computer (how he wasn’t sure) or if Stiles ran away (much more understandable), they would be turning over rocks to find him. Obviously this was not that case. That didn’t bode well for Derek after the promise he made the night before. Sure, Stiles could be definitely be helpful, but at the same time he kind of just seemed like a major responsibility that Derek didn’t exactly want to deal with.

A chime went off from a small box next to the gate and Derek’s head snapped to attention at it before he swallowed nervously. “Uh, Derek Hale? Here to see Marin?” He asked awkwardly, unsure if he was expected to even say anything yet. But luckily, the gate cracked and screeched before it began to roll to the side, giving them clearance to enter. At first, Derek started to move, but when he looked back at Stiles he realized he wasn’t being followed. No, Stiles decided to stop and talk to a bug on a leaf. With a roll of his eyes, Derek grabbed onto the machine and pulled him away and through the gates.

“Wait, I was seeing if I could und—“

“I don’t think you can understand bugs, Stiles. You’re an advanced machine capable of many things, but I have the feeling that even you aren’t compatible with insect communication.”

“You have no idea what I am capable of Derek, and I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Stiles answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek almost missed it. He almost let it slip past him, but when he realized, his face faltered and he looked at Stiles, eyebrows knitted together. “Did you really just quote Star Wars at me?” He asked.

“Well, since you caught it that just means I’m going to quote it more and I think it is appropriate for me to call you a ‘nerd’ or something,” Stiles grinned at him.

Derek found himself suddenly regretting bringing Stiles along with him on this one, even if he was the damn reason Derek was actually having this meeting. Still, Stiles seemed smug about his reference being recognized, and Derek couldn’t exactly hate the pleased look on him.

Walking up to the building, Derek sucked in a breath. It looked so absolutely sterile. It was completely white, and didn’t seem to be made out of any normal building material. It almost looked plastic, but there was no way. And the windows were blue. As Derek looked closer, he realized that the building also didn’t have seams, any corners. It didn’t seem to have been constructed at any point, just placed on top of the land there with a crane and left. That totally couldn’t be the case though.

He moved to knock on the door, but it opened automatically, a warm female voice coming out of nowhere to say “Welcome to Weretech Inc. Mr. Hale, we have been expecting you. Please enter and take off your shoes. Momentarily, one of our personal models will be by to assist you.”

Well, this was certainly going to be an experience. Derek walked inside before leaning down to take off his shoes. Stiles followed after him, but he was obviously very busy examining the building as well. Derek sighed after he removed his shoes and went to remove Stiles’ as well. The other placed his hand on Derek’s back and shifted from foot to foot to at least give him some assistance while he stared, mouth agape, at the high, glossy ceilings.

“Derek, why are we here? I don’t recognize this place at all. I thought you said we were coming to see if I could get my memory repaired,” Stiles said, looking confused, possibly scared.

The human stood up once Stiles’ shoes were off and he shrugged his shoulders. “Might not necessarily get your memories back, but we’re here to see someone who might be able to help me understand you more, okay?”

“You don’t have to see someone about that. Just talk to me, I’ll give you all the answers that I can tell you,” Stiles promised, grabbing hold of Derek’s hand and stopping him from walking away. Derek stared at him, his heart catching for a moment at how against being there Stiles seemed.

“You’ve only restored so much Stiles. You don’t even know about you at the moment,” Derek told him.

The machine sighed, or simulated a sigh, and rolled his eyes. When did the machine start getting such an attitude? “I’m sixty percent restored, Derek. I reached fifty yesterday while you were at work. I reached sixty just before you woke up. You haven’t been around to hear.” He looked up at Derek through his lashes and Derek felt his body tense, or freeze, he wasn’t sure.

“Fine, fine,” he finally answered Stiles, giving him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. Stiles smiled at it. What exactly could Stiles feel? Did he have sensors in him or something? Could he register the difference in textures, or just feel pressure? Did the Weretech models have that? “Let’s just stay, hear what she has to say and we can leave if she does anything you don’t like. Okay? I won’t let her keep you.”

This seemed to be a satisfactory answer, and Stiles nodded while he opened his mouth to speak. He didn’t get very far though, because there was suddenly another male in the room. Derek and Stiles both turned to look at him. He was tall, tanned, with a bright grin on his face. For some reason the grin actually reminded Derek of Stiles. In fact Stiles was grinning back at him in his irritating, lopsided way.

Derek rolled his eyes, because for some reason this felt like the moment of his life that he fell into some kind of weird android mutual bonding hell.

“Yo,” the new comer addressed. Yep, Derek could totally foresee him and Stiles getting along, mostly because Stiles immediately responded with ‘yo’ in return. What did Derek get himself into? “My name is Scott. I am a prototype for the next line of Weretech models. I have been instructed to lead you to your appointment today. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask me. This is mostly because I have a request for you, and that is to inform the person you are seeing today on how you think I will work as a model. Please share your honest opinion, I will make sure that I am out of the room when you do so you won’t feel any pressure.”

“I like you already,” Stiles answered immediately, grinning. Scott grinned back at him and gave a bit of a bounce. Since when did robots bounce?

“Thank you. Please follow me. I believe you are seeing Marin Morrell today? She will be expecting you on the third floor.” Scott the prototype model informed them. It was odd, because he wasn’t perfect like Derek had seen some of the other models. Maybe they were trying to make them look more human? Scott had imperfections, unlike Allison who was absolutely perfect in every way. Scott was a lot more like Stiles. What if Stiles was where they had gotten the idea from?

But no. Wouldn’t they have said something already? They probably had plenty of shots of what they looked like by now from cameras around the lobby. Maybe they had just gotten complaints that the models were too perfect?

Either way, Scott tuned away and began walking. Stiles seemed a lot more relaxed all of a sudden, and started following behind Scott, looking back and motioning with his head for Derek to follow. Was that normal computer behavior? Waving on someone to follow? But Derek did, really because he had no other choice. He had just made another promise to Stiles, too.

As Scott led them through the facility, Derek took in as much as he could. There was glass, and white, and sterilization. Every door slid open smoothly without being touched, and closed behind them with barely a sound. It made Derek feel uneasy, actually, wondering how easy it would be to get trapped inside one of these rooms. Was the glass easily breakable? Or was it bulletproof? Would they be able to get out? But he was being paranoid. At least he thought he was. Stiles seemed so much more comfortable in the facility now that Scott was there. Although that also seemed to bother some part of Derek. It shouldn’t, right? Stiles and Scott were both androids. Shouldn’t they bond or whatever?   
Derek allowed himself to chalk his being bothered by Scott and Stiles to the fact that he was in a place that was somewhat unnerving. At least until the two started a conversation. Stiles asked Scott something about did he have a certain software program, and Derek wasn’t sure what it meant. The two started chatting in a very animated way for computers, and though he smirked at watching them communicate, he tuned most of it out.

He enjoyed that Stiles seemed to be able to bond with other machines though, hell, he seemed to be able to “bond” with anything. 

Scott led them to an elevator that took them down instead of up; down three floors just as he had said. The elevator reminded Derek of one that would be seen in a hospital. It was large enough to fit a bed into, and it moved slowly. It was far too clean too, just like the rest of the building. It seemed like it was doused with bleach every night, but somehow the smell had disappeared. In fact, there was absolutely no smell at all. That was bothersome (the whole place was bothersome, okay?).

The future Weretech model smiled, stopping in front of the frosted glass door. He pressed the wall to the side and a thick, glowing circle appeared: hidden buttons. This place was a fortress and a maze. It was built to keep people from entering, but it was also built to keep people from finding their way back out. Not like Derek didn’t understand it. Why wouldn’t Doctor Deaton want the absolute best security for his creations?

“If you go on inside, Doctor Marin Morrell will be waiting for you,” Scott told them brightly. Stiles grinned and held out his fist; Scott lightly bumped his own fist against it. Great. Robots knew how to fist bump. That was just spectacular.

“Thanks,” Stiles told Scott before heading into the room. Derek did his best to smile at the Weretech model before following Stiles in, but he was sure it came out as something a little less friendly. Scott didn’t seem too bothered though. He simply waved and headed off again, going to some other kind of task his owner wanted him to do.

Stiles and Derek walked down a long hallway until they finally reached a large circular room. There was a comfortable looking couch and chair to one side of the room, a desk at the other, and a few large, odd looking machines. Derek also noticed that there were several charging platforms. But where were the models those platforms belonged to?  
A tall woman gracefully stepped out from behind one of the machines. She was in a lab coat that only reached to her knees. He wasn’t going to say he wasn’t impressed by the fact that she was in extremely high heels, because Derek assumed the woman was on her feet all day. She turned and looked at Derek thoughtfully. She didn’t really smile, but she didn’t look unkind. “You must be Mr. Hale,” she said in a sing-song voice. Then her eyes moved to Stiles. “And you’re the model I was asked to look at.”

“You have aesthetically pleasing features,” Stiles pointed out with a smile, holding out his hand for Marin to take. Having Stiles compliment Marin like he had Derek was irritating, but Derek let it pass. He was a flirt model, whatever.

This time, the woman really did smile. She also obliged Stiles by shaking his hand and nodding, “thank you. You’re able to examine aesthetics? I feel like that would be a very dangerous program to have. Or do you just compliment anyone?”

“I don’t just compliment anyone,” Stiles promised. “But I am able to find pleasing features in anyone I talk to. Plus I specifically find certain qualities attractive in a person for my own liking. As in: I so far think Derek is the most attractive male that I have seen.”

Marin nodded, her eyebrows knitting together, and she glanced at Derek. He knew he was most likely blushing, because he hadn’t been expecting to comment. Stiles found certain things attractive on his own? A part of him felt like Marin assumed he programmed Stiles to think like that. Not that Derek would have any idea of how to do that. Derek barely knew what end was up for a classic computer monitor. How would he know how to work a high tech humanoid computer?

“You personally think that Derek is attractive?” Marin asked him, her eyes finding their way back to Stiles.

The machine’s skin seemed to do something weird. It took on its normal glow, but the glow was mostly focused on his face, his cheeks. Was this Stiles’ version of blushing? Derek stared at him, confused. Maybe it was just a weird trick of his program? He blushed when questioned about what he found attractive? Maybe Stiles hadn’t meant to say it?  
“Yes,” Stiles answered, lower lip becoming trapped by his teeth.

“Are you programmed to find someone like Derek attractive?” Marin pressed.

In response, Stiles simply shook his head. “I told you, I am programmed find pleasurable qualities in anyone. I think Derek is the most attractive human I have met so far.”

This made Marin pause again, which made Derek feel even more anxious. He finally cut in with “can we please stop asking the computer about him finding me attractive?” It was maybe the wrong question, because Stiles looked a little hurt and Marin just narrowed her eyes at him. Yeah, definitely the wrong question.

“Fine. Stiles, can you tell me who your owner is?” She asked sweetly, turning to block her body off from Derek. He didn’t like her.

“I don’t know who made me or who owns me,” Stiles answered her, looking toward the ground. “I would like Derek to be my new owner.”

“You would like that? As in, you actually have an opinion on and would be able to feel a kind of sadness and dislike if Derek wasn’t your owner?”

“Yes,” Stiles answered decisively. “I wouldn’t be happy.”

Another pause. Her pauses were getting irritating. But she seemed just as confused as Derek was, which also wasn’t good. If Stiles was confusing someone who worked with Weretech models for a living, then what was wrong with him? “Stiles, do you mind if I examine your body?” She asked him, tilting her head to the side.

Stiles stared at her for a moment before he cast a look at Derek. He looked uneasy. “Only if Derek stays in here. Please don’t send him out.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t think about sending Derek out. I think he should be here to hear about you anyway. After all, he is the one who called me,” she smiled at Stiles and stepped a bit closer to him. “Would you be willing to take off your shirt for me?”

Why couldn’t she just ask him to do things? Erica told Allison to do things all the time, and Allison just did them. Erica didn’t worry about saying please, or trying to reassure her. Not that Erica did that with humans either, but still. Marin was talking to Stiles like he really was a person. He was a machine. She should just tell him to do what she wanted. She shouldn’t care about making him feel comfortable, right?

Nodding, Stiles reached behind his shoulder, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling it off over his head. Derek watched the movement, again shocked at just how human it was. How was Stiles even programmed to take his shirt off that way specifically? And underneath the shirt was even worse. He had definition, and muscles, but not too much. He didn’t look like a body builder, he looked like a guy who ran and occasionally did pushups. Stiles’ body was beautiful. His skin was smooth, and he even had moles dotting his back, sides and stomach. The light silvery glow under his skin was the only thing that reminded Derek he was not real. Not real. Not real.

The machine caught him staring and grinned at him. “Derek, would you please hold my shirt for me?” He asked, holding it out as Marin moved around Stiles to look at the back of his neck and shoulders. Derek reached forward and took it before slinging it over his shoulder, arms crossing over his chest. He was not going to objectify a robot. That was just a world he did not feel like getting into. Sure, plenty of other people did it, but Derek was not going to be one of them. He wasn’t that desperate for sex.

Marin made a soft humming noise, as if there was something she couldn’t find, even if she wanted to. She then turned and moved to look at Stiles’ chest, his sides, his back. It was a similar investigation to that which Erica and Derek had performed when Derek first found him. She check his hip, and ran her finger over the spot where the QR code should be. There wasn’t one, of course. Then she moved to run her fingers along his spine. Stiles grinned, even laughed a bit like it tickled him. Sure, some models were able to feel, but none of them were actually able to be tickled.

“Well, I knew he wasn’t, of course, created by us. Definitely a home built model. However, I am extremely curious about some of the software programs he is running. I would like to talk with him more, and I also think that Alan should see him. I really think Alan should see him,” Marin told Derek without actually looking at him.

She lowered herself to the ground, somehow managing to balance in the shoes she was wearing and pulled up the pant leg of Stiles’ sweatpants, where she knew his charge port was. She examined that as well, pulling down Stiles’ sock before she nodded and stood up again. “I will have Scott clear all of our appointments two days from now. You’ve brought a seriously curious little droid with you, Mr. Hale,” Marin told him, giving him a secretive smile.

Derek strangely felt like that did not bode well for him. “You’re seriously going to cancel everything to look at Stiles? Is something wrong with him?” Derek asked, wanting to move closer to the android, maybe as a way of comfort, even if he didn’t need to comfort a machine.

“I don’t think anything is wrong, but there is certainly a lot that is interesting,” she answered before coming back around to face Stiles. She lightly touched his cheek, reassurance, comfort. “Stiles, I want you to try and recover as much information as you can by the time you come back, alright? Then we’ll talk. Derek will come with you, and I promise that he can be with you through all of your tests, okay?”

Smiling, Stiles nodded and moved to grab his shirt from Derek. “Scott was a really cool model by the way. I think he would do well if you made him available to the public.”  
“Thank you. He is pretty much a definite at this point,” Marin answered, smiling at him. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to Derek. “I kept track of your number from the call yesterday. This card has my personal number. I would like to discuss the visit with you later. Maybe explain a bit more. But I need to speak with my brother first.”

“Right, okay,” Derek answered, taking the card awkwardly and glancing at it. No, something was definitely wrong with Stiles if she was giving him a way to directly access her. Something was wrong with Stiles if she wanted to get her brother in on it. What was wrong with his android? No, not his android. What was wrong with the android he found?  
“Well, I will be seeing you in two days then. I have a model with an affectation problem that I need to deal with. Scott will be able to show you out, he should be waiting for you outside the door. Derek, take care of Stiles,” Marin told them, gesturing toward the hallway where they came in with her hand. Then she turned and moved back behind the large, oddly shaped machine in the middle of the room.

The two stood for a moment, surprised at the quick exit from the woman. But once Stiles seemed to realize it was over, he turned to Derek and slide his shirt back on. Derek waited until Stiles was fully dressed once again before he headed toward the hallway. This was an extremely weird experience (and brief), but hey, maybe they could get some questions answered about Stiles in a few days. Until then, yeah, Derek would take care of Stiles.

The way out was fairly similar to the way in. Derek was filled with anxiety about the how clean everything looked and felt, surprised that he didn’t get used to it. Scott and Stiles started up a quick conversation about parts again, and Derek felt a little bad that he didn’t talk with Marin more about Scott. For some reason he felt that Isaac would really enjoy Scott’s model type. Maybe he would suggest to Isaac that he should wait for the next line to come out before getting one. Isaac might, might, have saved up enough by then too.  
Scott and Stiles seemed to get along so well that they shook hands and patted each other’s shoulders when they finally had to part. Derek wondered if maybe models were supposed to be together, work together. But Stiles’ grin didn’t lessen any when the gate to Weretech Inc . closed behind them. He looked at Derek and happily started walking back in the direction of their apartment.

Their apartment? Derek’s apartment. His own apartment. Stiles didn’t live there, he was a temporary resident. Temporary as in, he hoped to get a call or something soon for someone to claim him. Or he hoped that Morrell or Deaton would be able to figure out who he belonged to. Then he could get Stiles back to his rightful owner.

Even if a part of him didn’t really want to. What would happen to Stiles? Derek couldn’t help but shake the feeling that by giving Stiles back to his rightful owner, he would be doing something bad. He couldn’t think like that though. Someone probably spent a lot of money on him. They most likely didn’t just toss Stiles onto the street. Sure, he was wandering lost with his memory wiped, but there could be a lot of explanations for that. And Derek still didn’t even want a computer. Stiles would be a huge inconvenience for him. He didn’t need him.

But then Stiles grabbed his hand, and pointed toward a sight that to Derek seemed pretty natural. Just a man standing on the corner with balloons, and the man was handing a purple one to a child. Stiles seemed absolutely shocked that such pleasure could be taken from such a silly, inanimate object that wouldn’t even last longer than a day. So he went to get one. And Derek let him, because for some reason he felt that while Stiles knew plenty about the human race, he hadn’t actually experienced any of it. Would Stiles understand the basic principles that came along with being human sans the strictly logical ones? How far did his programmed feelings go? Maybe he could learn.  
The android grinned at Derek while pointing up at the red balloon now in his hand. Derek smiled back and shook his head fondly. What an interesting creation Stiles was turning out to be. Marin was absolutely right about him.

And the thought was enough to make Derek decide that he needed to get Stiles clothes. He needed to get Stiles more clothes of his own, and not just clothes too tight for Derek or the ones he found him in. Once Stiles came back from getting the balloon, Derek took a turn and headed toward a clothing store. He even humored every single question Stiles had about the world around them. “But why do people run together to talk if it just messes up breathing? I know that ice cream and pizza can be pleasurable foods, but why are they so pleasurable? Why can food be comforting? What does it mean for that man to refuse to walk under scaffolding? I know it’s a superstition but I don’t understand. Why is that girl blushing even if she is not that flattered? I am equipped with knowledge that humans do certain things. I know that. I am programmed to do those things too. But why?”

Derek was not prepared for a psychological and philosophical model.

They ended up getting Stiles one new outfit, because he didn’t want Derek to spend that much money on him. “Finically, if you can’t even afford a Weretech model you should not be spending extra money on me, but on yourself.” However, Stiles seemed pretty pleased with the outfit either way. And Derek enjoyed seeing him in jeans that fit him and a purple hoodie. Stiles had decided he liked the purple hoodie most of all while wandering the store. Derek didn’t know if that was something to think about, the fact that Stiles had a preference to his clothes. Erica had mentioned that she just went out and bought Allison what Erica liked best. Was Derek supposed to pick out the clothes for Stiles? Why would he when the android seemed perfectly capable of picking them out himself? Marin had seemed confused that he had preferences though, too.

“Your model is so handsome!” The girl at the counter told Derek, grinning at Stiles. Stiles grinned back and preened at her.

“Oh, he’s not my model,” Derek answered. “We just like to hang out together, you know, friends shopping together.”

And the girl looked a little confused, but she handed Stiles the bag anyway. He seemed a little confused himself, like he wanted to be known as Derek’s model but he was also fine with knowing that they were just hanging out together. Derek rolled his eyes and lightly splayed a hand across Stiles’ back to push him out of the store.

The rest of the night was fairly easy, fairly simple. It was almost like they were already starting to develop a routine. Once again, Stiles read to Derek while he was falling asleep. Derek fell asleep with a smile.


	5. Something About Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has now gotten Marin Morrell's opinion on Stiles, and though she wants Deaton to meet him, they couldn't set up an immediate meeting. So, in his spare time, Derek decides to take Stiles to work. It's not the best plan he's ever had and immediately regrets it. He also realizes that he's not the only person in the world that things the models are just machines, and he seriously questions his previous thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! Hope you have been enjoying this! I think this chapter ends in a really sweet way. But I do want to warn you, Deucalion is a bit of a creep, though it's nothing graphic. Does make Derek question models' rights though. So just be wary when Deucalion shows up. Thanks for all the comments and for sticking with me!

“No, Stiles!” Derek shouted much too late, wincing at the loud crash that occurred not even halfway through getting out the model’s name. Stiles had been trying to balance several boxes of Derek’s files and paperwork in his arms while walking to the other side of the office. Now Stiles lay sprawled out and covered in said papers; a sheepish, apologetic smile stretched over his face. Derek slowly closed his eyes and brought the pads of his fingers to his temple. Man, did he have a headache.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to bring Stiles to work with him, (yes he did, it was Stiles bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and saying “I can be so helpful! I swear, if you take me to work I promise to make it so much easier on you!”), but it was a bad decision. A decision that he now needed a severe dosage of ibuprofen for. Stiles totally did not keep that promise.

So far, he had asked so many questions that Derek was debating putting a talking limit on him, he had broken one of the coffee carafes in the lounge, distracted several of the other models in the office, and, worst of all, he seemed to have gotten the attention of half the employees there. Derek had actually gotten offers for him. Without even trying, Stiles had managed to make some of Derek’s co-workers throw out amounts of money that Derek never imagined he’d see in his life all at once. Apparently Stiles was very in demand. The model was so ‘rare’ and ‘handsome’ and ‘funny,’ which all just made him ‘so desirable, all of my friends will be jealous, Derek!.’

In fact, so many people started cooing over Stiles, and his dorky smile and ability to laugh awkwardly at (frankly lecherous) comments thrown his way that Derek had decided to just keep him in his office all day. No going out unless it was with Derek. Which Stiles didn’t seem to hate necessarily, so much as not understand why he had to stay in the room. All Derek needed was a co-worker to steal him. Then with his luck, Stiles’ real owner would call five minutes after. “Uh, yeah, I had him but I lost him, sorry?” It was a conversation that he didn’t want to risk having.

So, in turn, Stiles decided to try and clean up Derek’s office since he couldn’t leave it anyway. And for some completely illogical reason, the android couldn’t seem to stay still too long, which Derek thought wasn’t actually a very smart design for an android. Sure, they should be able to move and all, but to have nervous ticks and need to get up every five minutes? Kind of irritating, actually. (“I was built to move, Derek! If I stay stationary you could just get a boring, old desktop!” Though he did have a point there.)

Derek conceded to Stiles cleaning up his office, reluctantly, and very regretfully after Stiles tripped and sent everything spilling onto the ground. How did an android even trip over his own feet? Weren’t they supposed to be more skilled then that? This whole day was not going well.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I can have this cleaned up in no time!” Stiles promised, already scrambling onto his hands and knees, all the while gathering papers as he went. It was endearing, in a way. It was also helpful, at least, for Stiles to still be so adamant to clean. But it also didn’t make Derek’s now too apparent headache go away.

After about an hour, Stiles did, in fact, get it cleaned up and resorted. Actually, he sorted them better than they were originally. And by the end of the day, Derek’s office looked a lot better than it had in months. It wasn’t like Derek really had the time free to go ahead and clean everything up regularly. He had things sorted and used a lot of colored tabs for different things, but that was about it. This was the trouble with being an accountant of a major corporation. He still had a bit of work left to do, and Stiles was starting to get antsy with nothing more to clean or organize.

“Do you want me to download all of your files from your computer into me? I can probably calculate faster than it can.” The model may have thrown a jealous glare at Derek’s desktop, which Derek possibly thought was kind of cute.

“No, because you won’t be coming with me every day,” Derek told him, and once again Stiles looked upset by his words. So Derek sighed and continued, “if I don’t get a call from your owner by next week, I will use you as my permanent computer, okay?”

It seemed satisfying enough, and Stiles took a moment, but he finally beamed up at Derek and nodded. Derek realized quickly that he was making a lot of promises to spare the android of nonexistent feelings. First that he would keep him, now that he would actually use him. What kind of promise would he be making next?

“But I am keeping my files backed up on this computer too, just in case.” In case there would be a day when Stiles would be with someone else. Not that Derek would give him away if his owner never called, but he couldn’t shake the feeling the android wasn’t going to be with him forever.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?” Stiles asked, tilting his head to the side. He didn’t sound angry about it, but he didn’t exactly sound pleased either.

“It’s not necessarily you, so much as it is technology,” he mumbled back.

“I am technology, Derek,” Stiles answered, voice now edging on icy.

“You’re different.” And it was true. Stiles was different. Stiles wasn’t just a computer that Derek sighed at when it read “Error Code: blah, blah, blah,” and couldn’t fix it. Well, he couldn’t fix Stiles either, but Stiles could definitely fix himself a lot better than a normal computer. Stiles had a voice, and legs, he could move and do things. He read to Derek at night. No normal computer had ever done that for him.

“How would you like it if I made fun of your distant relatives? You should apologize.” Stiles frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I am not apologizing to a computer, Stiles. It doesn’t have your programming. It can’t hear me. It doesn’t have ears.” He narrowed his eyes a bit. Stiles’ response was to keep his arms crossed over his chest and stare Derek down. Which Derek assumed was supposed to be intimidating, though it didn’t really work with Stiles. Even if, in reality, he could probably crush Derek’s head with one hand, he was made of metal after all, but intimidating just wasn’t Stiles’ thing. But it wasn’t like Derek was made of something stronger.

Still, intimidating or not, Derek promised that he was not going to let the stare work. He would not allow himself to be manipulated into something so entirely stupid just because it made Stiles ‘feel’ bad. He was not going to cave and apologize to a machine. Nope. So instead, he tried to focus on the paper work in front of him, refusing to look up at Stiles.   
After a moment though, he did glance up, and Stiles was holding true to his position. He his didn’t fall at all, and he even looked a bit angrier than before. Derek flung his hands into the air in frustration.

“Machine! Machine, Stiles!” He said, rolling his eyes.

“Do it for me then,” Stiles answered, still pouting and glaring with everything he had, and winning. Derek was totally caving. How could he refuse that?

With a sigh, he glared at the desktop before casting another look at Stiles, who only nodded in encouragement to continue.

“Sorry,” Derek stressed out between his teeth. “I trust the both of you to keep my files protected, and I’m sorry I will have Stiles keep them from now on. But I still appreciate all the work you have done for me. It’s not you, it’s me.” Then he moved his glare to Stiles. The other was now smiling at him, completely pleased that Derek totally gave in and apologized to a freaking machine. The android even went as far as to give Derek the thumbs up again, which immediately made him want to shut Stiles down. This was ridiculous.

The rest of the day actually went pretty smoothly. His desktop oddly didn’t act up for him, or have an error code pop up once. But Derek wasn’t going to think about that at all. It was not because Stiles made him apologize to it. Totally just coincidence. Seriously though, the machine didn’t even have ears to hear him. Stiles looked pretty smug about it either way.

Now that there was nothing more to clean, Stiles managed to just do little things around the office to spruce it up. The organization was definitely a big help to Derek. Normally he hated when other people cleaned things for him because he could never seem to find anything after. But Stiles had almost seemed to know how he wanted everything sorted. It was easy to find the files he needed, or which pockets to place things in. It wasn’t just color coded, everything was labeled, alphabetized inside each color, and each color was arranged by year. It was perfect. So once he was able to put away the papers he had been working on, and grab what he needed to work on at home, he actually started packing up to head out on time for once. Maybe now he wouldn’t have to spend overtime at the office that week.

When he told Stiles it was time to leave, the android grinned and nodded, already heading for the door. He had his hand on the handle and it suddenly opened from the other side. Derek turned to see Stiles’ eyes widen, lips part, while he stared at the man smirking in front of him. Deucalion’s lips curled and made it very clear that he was looking Stiles up and down, not even bothering to look at Derek.

“Derek, heading out already? Fairly early for you,” he pointed out in his normal graveled drawl.

“Yeah, all the accounts are in order for now, and I was thinking about hanging more posters for Stiles.”

While the model waved a bit to show Deucalion who he was, like Deucalion didn’t already know, the man crossed his arms over his chest and allowed his eyes to rake over Stiles’ body again. It made a very unpleasant feeling work its way into Derek’s stomach. “Ah yes, your miraculous little find. You didn’t tell me that he was so intriguing,” Deucalion mentioned with a smirk.

“That’s a word for it,” Derek mumbled.

But then Deucalion was gripping Stiles’ jaw and examining his face closely, and Derek felt his hands twitch by his sides. Despite there being no aggressive movements, Derek didn’t exactly like the other touching Stiles. From the way Stiles seemed to freeze up, he didn’t like it either.

“Yes, very peculiar,” Deucalion spoke to no one.

Stiles’ face had completely dropped from his normal grin to a frown to looking a bit panicked again. “Uh, please stop touching me,” he said quietly, pulling himself back from the human’s grip.

“What model number are you?” Deucalion asked, completely ignoring the request. Then he reached down and began to lift at the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

Derek was there in an instant, protective hand on Stiles’ back, the other around Deucalion’s wrist to pull it away from Stiles. “He asked you not to touch him,” Derek warned, voice coming out much lower, deeper than it normally was. He felt Stiles lean closer into him, but didn’t want to break eye contact with Deucalion.

In response, however, Deucalion simple smiled, gave a bit of a chuckle and said, “Good God, man, it’s just a machine!”

The unpleasant feeling suddenly turned into straight out illness and unease. Derek’s own words were just sent right back at him. A few days ago he wouldn’t have predicted his response of “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Leave him alone. We’re heading home now.”

Though Derek didn’t immediately move from his spot. He looked Deucalion right in the eye, silently challenging him. The grin left the other man’s face, and they stood staring at each other until it seemed Deucalion finally backed down. The other turned to leave before pausing and saying, “don’t become like one of those hopeless individuals that are so wrapped up with something nonliving they ignore the world, Derek. It’s pathetic. He can’t breathe, he doesn’t eat. You know he can’t love you back, not really. If I took him, he would love me just the same.” And then he was gone.

Love was a big word to be using, because there was no way in hell Derek would ever love Stiles, let alone become that wrapped up in a computer. Still, he felt unsettled. His stomach wouldn’t give on feeling like he’d swallowed a rock. Stiles looked up at him with wide eyes before Derek sighed and went to grab his briefcase. He felt like they couldn’t leave quick enough.

“Are you mad at me?” Stiles asked now that they were on the street, looking up at Derek almost shyly.

“No, Stiles. In no way am I mad at you, okay?” Derek didn’t move his hand away from Stiles’ back.

Sure, the Deucalion episode put a damper on the day, but Stiles seemed alright once they were out of the office and headed home. Derek glanced at him occasionally while they walked. He seemed a bit more subdued than normal, which had Derek worrying in the back of his mind. Sure, Stiles was smiling and pointing a couple of things out, but he wasn’t talking a mile a minute like he usually was.

The words “he’s just a machine” kept echoing in Derek’s head. Yeah, Stiles was just a machine. It was something that Derek had been telling himself since he found Stiles and realized that he was a model. But after hearing Deucalion say it, something about the phrase just made his skin crawl. So what if he was just a machine? Did that mean that he had no say? No rights?

From what Derek had observed, Stiles could definitely feel, physically and emotionally (even if Derek didn’t really want to admit it to himself). And sure, it was hard to believe coming from metal and fake skin. Derek wasn’t even sure how he managed to do it, but he did. So did the other models? Marin had been convinced that Stiles was different, interesting, the ways that he could process and feel seemed to grab her attention. But did that mean he was alone, that he was the only one? What if the others, after all of their programming, developed the same habits? Did that mean people could just use them however they wanted?

Deucalion’s gesture had been simple. He had only wanted to examine Stiles. But the way he looked at the android, the way he had no regard for the fact that there was something thinking in there. Derek suddenly felt like a total asshole for the way that he had thought about Stiles before. And it made him all the more determined to keep Stiles in his hands. In fact, Derek was even starting to question giving the android back to his owner. He would definitely have to make sure that it was someone…nice. Someone that wouldn’t hurt him.

Though, thinking of the owner. Derek slipped his phone out of his pocket to check for any messages. None about a lost android. It helped that Derek included Stiles had been damaged when he found him. He hadn’t included that Stiles was repaired. Hopefully this would show that no one wanting to just score a free model would contact him, and only the owner would. Although not if Stiles was injured after he left, right? Then he wouldn’t know about the memory loss. Damnit.

But if Derek put up pictures of him would he get people just wanting Stiles for his looks asking about him? Maybe Stiles would be able to recognize his owner when he saw them, even though he didn’t know what they looked like now?

This was a total mess. Derek was never going to find Stiles’ owner, was he? Did he want to?

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, suddenly a lot closer to Derek than Derek remembered him being. He then lightly bumped Derek’s shoulder with his.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” He answered, not even bothering to tell Stiles not to bump him.

“You just seemed like you were in a lot of thought. Or um, deep in thought, is the phrase I guess.”

“Nah, just thinking about getting you back to your owner,” Derek said with a bit of shrug added in to emphasize that it wasn’t a big deal. 

“Oh, right,” Stiles nodded, features darkening just slightly. Then the android looked away, even took a step away from Derek. “Did you want to go put up more posters after you eat dinner?”

“Actually,” Derek started before just slowly reaching to wrap an arm Stiles’ shoulders in a friendly gesture. After looking confused for just a moment, Stiles just smiled up at him, and even leaned into him a bit. “Why don’t we forgo putting up posters tonight?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m not actually in the mood for heading out again.”

“Then,” Stiles paused and worried at his lip, “what are you interested in doing instead?”

“You ever wonder who would win in a game of Monopoly? An accountant or an android?”

“Totally an android,” Stiles grinned, leaning into Derek even more now.

“You’re still repairing. Like you could keep up,” Derek snorted.

The two grinned and kept up various little come backs at each other for the walk back before they slipped into a bit more of their normal conversation. Mostly Stiles just asking a million questions about ‘why’ and Derek did his best to answer what he could. A good amount of it really seemed to be coming back to him, but the model would just occasionally get stuck on an object or an object’s purpose.

Most of all, Stiles was extremely curious about children. It was understandable from Derek’s point of view, because models were never children. And Stiles could go on a rant about how to take care of one, different lullabies to sing when a child was distressed, or how to rock one to sleep, but Stiles couldn’t actually explain much about them that wasn’t from a logical standpoint. They were tiny humans, he could cover their genetic makeup, how they were formed, the works. But he had no why. Which is where Derek tried to fill in. His sister had a baby, and it was really the only baby he had ever interacted with. Normally they were so small he tried to ignore them for fear of breaking them. Laura had forced him to hold her though. And yeah, Derek had fallen in love. That was a ‘why’ he couldn’t really explain though.

When they got back to Derek’s apartment, he held the door open for Stiles and followed in after, locking it behind the both of them. “Okay, I know I have Monopoly somewhere in the close upstairs. Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Derek told him while working off his work shoes. Once he was out of them, he trotted to the stairs and up them. It only took him a few minutes to rummage around in the closet, and once he had what he needed, he headed back downstairs and into the same room as Stiles. The android had moved the coffee table away from the couch and was now sitting on the floor cross-legged, chin resting gently on his knuckles and a huge grin on his face. Derek was not going to think about how adorable he looked.

“I’ve never played Monopoly,” Stiles said before his eyes took to glowing in the concentric circles that Derek was now very used to. “But I now know all of the rules. I would also like to be the race car.”

Maybe it wasn’t such a smart decision for Derek to play a board game with the other, and not only that but challenge him. Derek had never lost a game of Monopoly, normally just because he knew how to handle money, and a lot of other people got bored easily. But Stiles had access to instructions on how to play at the drop of a hat. What if he read up on how to beat him really quickly or something?

But no, Derek made the joke for a reason, and he wasn’t going to take offense to an android beating him at a childhood game. He would not let his competitive side show through, because Stiles had any knowledge he wanted in possession. Clearly, it was unfair.

Which was what Derek kept telling himself when Stiles did, in fact, win. Twice. The first time Stiles had seemed genuinely surprised at winning. And then watching Derek get so upset as he shouted ‘No!’ and ran a hand through his hair. Stiles laughed and reached over to pat his cheek in almost a consoling way. “It’s okay, Big Guy,” he half cooed, “I’m sure you’ll get me next time.” Which Derek did not.

And this time, before he got upset that he got beaten by an android (like he ever stood a chance), he just looked up at Stiles, just watched. He seemed genuinely pleased, happy, like there was nothing in the world that he would rather be doing then sitting and playing some stupid game with Derek. He seriously wanted to know if all models were like this. He wanted to know if they all had the ability to make you feel like they were so human. Did they all seem so real?

Allison never seemed as real as Stiles. She was too perfect in everything she did. And even with the new physical flaws and human personality the Scott model had, he didn’t seem as real.

“Are you hungry?” Stiles asked, snapping Derek out of his thoughts. “I can make you something if you want.”

“I can help you, actually,” Derek answered and started to clean up the game. While he did that, Stiles got up off the floor and went to start searching through the refrigerator in Derek’s small kitchen. A part of Derek wanted to ignore his constant need to wonder what kind of programming Stiles had, but just from the knowledge that models didn’t actually do what Stiles did made that impossible. Why was he the way he was?

They ended up making spaghetti and a garlic toast for Derek. Nothing too extreme. Though Derek continuously forgot that he was not making dinner for two. It was just him. Though there was another form in the room, Stiles didn’t eat. He recharged. But Stiles could feel, right? Could he smell? Derek felt like he had talked about smells before. And he could hear and see, of course. Then could he taste? It seemed fairly logical to assume so. Why would they give him all the other senses but not taste? 

“Are you able to taste?” Derek asked, finally just asking Stiles what he was wondering.

“I haven’t tried,” Stiles answered plainly before he shrugged a shoulder. Derek put a dab of sauce on the tip of his spoon before holding it out for Stiles to taste. The android stuck his tongue out hesitantly before just touching the tip of it to the spoon. It took a moment, but Stiles pulled back and tilted his head slightly. “Yes. I was able to taste something. And from the information I can find, it’s what I’m supposed to taste. Tomatoes, salt, various spices.” He nodded quickly and smiled.

Apparently Stiles’ creator was extremely thorough. So what was he trying to do in creating Stiles? Because he was way too human. Was that even legal? Had the government not placed down laws about the creation of androids? Especially ones about making them too human? Derek felt like that probably wasn’t a good idea.

After watching a bit of the baseball game on tv (though if he was honest, Derek mostly watched Stiles react to watching it) Derek made his way to a shower and then to his room to sleep. He could and should probably work out, considering he hadn’t since Stiles showed up, but at the moment he could not convince himself to.

Stiles was already waiting patiently on his charging platform, and he watched Derek walk in. He smiled at him, and Derek couldn’t help but cast a sort of shy smile back. It was starting to feel more comfortable, having Stiles around. Actually, Derek was able to admit he kind of liked it. He slipped out of his shirt and crawled into bed, glad Stiles didn’t make a comment about his body this time. Or at least, he didn’t say anything out loud. Stiles’ mouth was currently open like he was about to say something.

“Derek,” he started before stopping sharply and shaking his head for a moment.

“What, Stiles?” He asked, touching the base of his lamp and holding until it shut off.

“It’s nothing,” Stiles answered before closing his eyes.

Sighing a bit, Derek closed his eyes too, and tried to get to sleep. But when he realized that Stiles wasn’t reading like he had the past two nights, he started to shift uncomfortably in his bed. After about five minutes of just feeling completely uneasy, he sighed again and turned to look at Stiles’ slightly glowing form across the room. “What did you want Stiles?”

“I wanted—“ The android started again and seemed like he was going to stop before he opened his eyes. “I was researching the benefits that physical touch can have on a person’s emotional state. And I’ve heard a lot about cuddling, and how sometimes having someone in bed with you to sleep can be helpful and since you’re so grumpy anyway it—“

“Stiles?” Derek cut him off and the model immediately stopped talking. Derek could not believe he was actually asking this. “Did you want to charge in my bed tonight?”  
Immediately, Stiles nodded. Derek did the same in answer and pulled the covers up. Would this be weird? It was definitely going to be a little weird. The android picked up his charging platform and came to place it near the bed where it would reach his ankle best.

“Take off the jeans and the hoodie, because they are going to be awful sleeping next to if you keep them on,” Derek mumbled, rolling a bit to make room for Stiles.

Again, Stiles nodded and unplugged his ankle. Then he slipped out of both articles of clothing, folded them carefully and placed them on the ground next to his charging platform. Then, hesitant once again, he moved under the offered sheet. It suddenly felt like a much bigger moment for Derek. He watched the form move next to him, only able to tell where his lines were between the light glow of the veins under his skin and the moonlight coming in from the window. But even the abnormal light coming from Stiles wasn’t enough to make Derek feel like he wasn’t actually in a situation where his heart would need to start beating a lot faster. He felt like he was going to sleep next to an actual person.

At first they just laid next to each other, not touching, but both staring at the ceiling. Stiles finally turned to look at him and made a bit of a face. “This isn’t cuddling, is it? I don’t see where there are benefits.”

It was enough of a comment to make Derek move in, scoot closer to Stiles. The human tucked himself against the android’s side and laid his head gently on Stiles’ chest. It had been a long time since he cuddled with anyone. It had been a long time since he had shared a bed with someone, let alone got close to sharing a bed with someone. But Stiles was warm. Stiles’ skin was also just lightly scenting. He couldn’t place it, but it was good. Relaxing. He brought his hand up near his mouth, just resting on Stiles’ chest as well. In turn, Stiles brought his own arm up around Derek’s back and let his hand rest on Derek’s hip. Yeah, there were definitely benefits to cuddling, especially emotionally. Derek finally closed his eyes again.

“Stiles, do you mind reading to me?” He asked softly.

Stiles smiled gently, though he knew Derek couldn’t see it. “Of course,” he mumbled in answer.


	6. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the day Stiles gets examined by Doctor Deaton himself. It's a boring trip, but Derek is hopeful they will at least figure out who made Stiles. Things don't exactly go according to his plans, but he also thinks Deaton isn't telling him everything he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this one took a bit longer to come out, have been busy. I like this chapter, even if it seems quick. I really enjoy writing Deaton and Morrell, I think they're fun characters. Anyway, hope you enjoy it! Thanks for all the comments and kudos, you guys rock.

Waking up in the morning, Derek felt a lot more comfortable than he had in…years. It took him a moment to realize that he heard a soft piano tune coming from his cellphone. Through his grogginess, he grabbed the phone and hit snooze. It was the first time he had done so since probably high school when it took ear shattering volumes of classic rock and hitting snooze seven times before he woke up. Yeah, it probably really had been that long since he’d slept until his alarm, or even hit snooze.

This thought made his eyes snap back open, because he actually slept in until his alarm clock. That was amazing. He then honed in on the body he felt next to his. Sometime during the night, Derek must have turned on his side, away from Stiles and the android must have tucked himself in immediately. Because really, they were spooning. Derek tried not to think about it, but slowly looked over at Stiles laying plastered against his body. Stiles had one hand under his head like a pillow, the other was resting gently on Derek’s waist. His eyes were closed, and his lips were parted. He looked absolutely like he was asleep, completely dead to the world.

But he was still warm. Derek rolled on his other side to face Stiles before scooting just a little closer, taking in the heat and the spiced scent coming off of the other’s skin. Though he would never admit it, but he enjoyed how close they were. And Stiles looked so peaceful, which just made Derek feel good for some reason. One side of his mouth quirked up slightly while he reached up to brush Stiles’ hair back a bit, even if it just sprung right back into place.

Derek glanced down at Stiles’ lips and unknowingly wet his own. Synthetic or not, they still looked beautiful, perfect. Derek ignored his sudden urge to want to touch, as well as the way his heart sped up. It seemed like all of a sudden he just wanted to lean in and see what synthetic lips felt like against his own. Stiles’ skin felt so close to real, would his lips feel like that too? Would they be warm like the rest of him?

Luckily, that’s when Stiles opened his eyes, his mouth transforming into a sleepy grin. He seemed completely oblivious to the thoughts going on inside Derek’s mind, which Derek was more than thrilled about. Stiles didn’t have to know how dangerously close the human was to kissing him. Apparently days of reminding himself that Stiles was a machine did absolutely no good. Derek was still lonely, and Stiles still looked human.

“Good morning, Derek,” Stiles told him in a much softer voice than normal.

“Morning, Stiles,” he answered, disliking the fact that his own voice was soft.

“Did you sleep well? Do you feel more emotionally stable?”

Oddly enough, he did. Hell, he felt really good. “Yeah, to both, actually,” he admitted, a bit awkwardly. “How about you? I mean, did you charge well?” He cringed mostly because that sounded really stupid when it came out of his mouth.

Stiles didn’t seem to notice though. He just kept smiling, closed his eyes again and nodded. “Yes. I am completely charged. I am also eighty percent restored. Just twenty percent left. Hopefully then I can restore everything.”

And Derek assumed this meant that Stiles would know who his owner and creator were. Which would be helpful, not just because Derek wanted to get him back (maybe), but because he wanted to see if he could look into whoever it was first. Based on his decision the previous night, he wanted to make sure that whoever it was would be okay, and that he could feel comfortable giving Stiles back to them. “Good,” was what he answered Stiles with, even though he was already thinking of other things.

“Want me to make you breakfast?” Stiles asked, hopeful, as he leaned down to unplug his ankle from his charging port.

“It’s okay, I’ll just have yogurt. We probably should head over to Weretech Inc. anyway. You have a very important appointment there, and I feel like Doctor Deaton would not really enjoy keeping him waiting all day.”

“That’s true,” Stiles answered, though he gave a bit of a frown. Stiles needed to stop hoping to wait on him all the time.

So Derek rolled out of bed and moved to his dresser to pull out a change of clothes. Maybe he should be a bit more self-conscious about being in his boxer-briefs in front of Stiles, but there was really no point. At least not until he turned to look over his shoulder and the android had his eyes glued to Derek’s back, mouth gaping slightly, eyes half-lidded. He turned fully to face him, arms crossing over his chest even though he was still holding a fistful of clothes. “Stiles?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Hm? What?” Stiles asked, jumping a bit. Then he bit his lip and shook his head, rising from the bed to head for the exit. “Sorry, I think I was just going through some minor calibrations. No big deal. Nothing to worry about. I’m, um, going to go get that yogurt ready for you.” The android stumbled a bit on his own clothes still on the ground before leaning over to grab them and rushing from the room.

Derek stared after him with wide eyes before shaking his head. He said that he was repairing, but really Stiles seemed like more of a mess than ever. Sighing, he made his way to the bathroom where he jumped into the shower. It was fairly quick, considering what he just told Stiles about being at Weretech Inc., and when he made his way downstairs, Stiles was leaning on the kitchen counter and reading the yogurt container.

“You know, when you eat this you’re really just eating a bunch of bacteria and fermented milk. With fruit, so I guess that makes in better,” Stiles decided to inform him before peeling off the lid.

What exactly about telling him that made Stiles believe Derek wanted to eat it after? “Thank you for the information. It also has a lot of protein,” he answered, walking over and grabbing the container from Stiles. He could block out what the android just said pretty easily. He had been eating yogurt for years.

After finishing his quick breakfast, the two got ready and made their way to Deaton’s. It was a quick walk, mostly because Derek wanted to get to the building. Hopefully eight in the morning wouldn’t be too early to show up there, right? Even if it was, it would make them look punctual. Though Derek didn’t know why he was trying so hard to impress the Doctor.

He pressed the button on the gate and heard the little chime sound that let him know they were aware he was there, but he didn’t have time to say who he was there to see before the gates were opening. It was odd, mostly because he questioned how they knew who it was. Or did they just let anyone in this early in the morning? Derek quickly looked around to check if there were any cameras attached to the gate. Didn’t seem like it though. Then again, that didn’t mean there weren’t tons of tiny cameras hidden around the area. He should just go ahead and assume that because Deaton definitely had the best security he could possibly ask for. The cameras were so obvious inside, but that didn’t mean they’d be obvious outside.

Stiles moved through the gate first, grabbing Derek’s hand and pulling him along. “Come on, you stressed for us to come so early and now is when you decide to stop? They’re going to close the gate on you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to look at Derek.

“Okay, okay,” he answered, glaring at bit at Stiles just for being rushed. He would like to say something about hastiness, but he really was pushing them to get here all morning.  
They moved inside the building and took off their shoes like before, and Derek felt the same uneasy feeling that he did before too. The inside wasn’t any less white, or glossy, or sterile. There was still no smell to the building. Why did he think that anything would have changed or that it might feel more comfortable?”

“Hey!” Came a familiar voice, and Stiles turned around to grin at the form walking through the door. Of course Scott would be the one to greet them again. “We’re glad you got here so early. I believe Doctor Morrell stressed the importance during her check in call?”

“Yeah, she said to try and come as early as possible, but wouldn’t be an inconvenience. I just wasn’t sure what time you opened either,” Derek answered, shrugging his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest.

“We don’t really have hours to open. But both doctors are normally in at around five in the morning. They tend to leave earlier in the day, but sometimes stay here all night as well. So it can vary,” Scott answered with a smile.

Derek nodded, and after the two androids gave a bit of a greeting, they were moving through the building and to the elevators. They went further down this time, fifteen floors instead of just three, and Derek felt like his head was getting a bit fuzzy. Wasn’t it bad to travel so far underground so quickly?

He was so busy thinking about what was going to happen to him going so deep into the ground, and about how he felt if he touched anything in the building he would destroy it with his filth, that he didn’t hear most of the conversation happening between Stiles and Scott, though they were once again talking very animatedly. He finally tuned back in on, “dude, no, I will totally stay in the room with you if you’re nervous. You’ll have Derek and me there. I promise, nothing will go wrong.” And Scott was grinning at him while saying this. He looked so entirely bright, so just…positive. And Derek could tell how much it affected Stiles, because the other was just beaming.

Why did he feel like he was going to have to take them both home at the end of the day?

Scott led them out of the elevator and down another long hallway. It was similar to the one from a few days ago, and it led them into a large, circular room. Derek suddenly understood what it felt like to be a goldfish. Scott motioned for them to wait at the door before he crossed the room to the other side. After he pressed a space on the wall, a glowing circle appeared where his finger was and the door slid open. Then he moved in, and the door closed behind him.

“Oh,” Stiles said, face falling a bit. “I thought he was going to stay the whole time.” He frowned a bit and stepped closer to Derek.

“Probably just going to get the Doctor,” Derek reassured, looking over at Stiles. The android smiled at him, seemingly grateful for the words.

They stood in silence for a few minutes after that. Major silence. Silence so obvious that it almost hurt Derek’s ears to be there. He didn’t know if he was imagining things, but he felt like he could hear the gears and parts inside Stiles moving, which he had never heard before. Actually, he thought he heard his own heartbeat a couple of times. And whenever he did, he noticed that it sped up. And Stiles seemed to be getting bothered by the silence as well. He started shifting from foot to foot, then rubbed the back of his neck, wiggled his fingers around, played with the hem of his sweatshirt, kicked at the ground. And finally when he couldn’t take it anymore, he turned to Derek.

“I don’t like waiting, Derek. How do humans do it so much? I don’t like just sitting here and waiting to find stuff out about myself,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nerve-wracking. I’m anxious. I don’t like it. So how do I stop it? What do you normally do? If you go to the doctor and you are waiting for them to come in to give you an examination then how do you deal with the boredom? Obviously you don’t sit on your phone, which is the norm now, but you are so absolutely averse to using any kind of technology that can’t be your choice, so just what do you do?”

“I don’t really go to the doctor,” Derek answered, pulling a face and narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t go to the doctor? Derek, what happens if you get sick? Technology has come a very far way, but I don’t know if I could pull you back from the brink of death! You need to go get an MRI like, yesterday. How about we actually go to the hospital right now to make sure you’re okay?” Stiles asked, already heading for the door they came through.  
Derek reached out and snatched Stiles’ hood to pull him back, close to Derek. “No you don’t. It’ll be okay, Stiles. I’m not sick. Plus, can’t you do those kinds of tests for me? Why do I need an MRI?”

“I can do blood work and scan you,” Stiles answered before shrugging. “But I don’t really want to. I decided a while ago when those functions got restored that I wasn’t going to use them on you without your permission. Plus there are even some things I can miss and I wouldn’t want to.”

Oddly, that was touching to Derek in a way. He smirked and shook his head. “When we get back to the apartment, you can give me whatever test you want, okay?” He only then realized that he had pulled Stiles incredibly close, so close their bodies were touching in several places. Stiles noticed too, because his cheeks were glowing faintly.

“Yeah, okay,” he told Derek.

They were interrupted then by Scott coming into the room. He paused, seemed to measure the distance between them and smiled. “Sorry if I’ve disturbed a moment,” the Weretech model said before he turned to face the wall. “I was just going to tell you that Doctor Deaton and Doctor Morrell are on their way, and to apologize for the wait.”  
“It’s fine,” Derek answered. Then he moved away from Stiles, because he didn’t want this getting more awkward.

A minute later, Doctor Morrell was walking into the room in the same high heels, and the same kind, but lacking a smile, face. “Mr. Hale, nice to see you again,” she said calmly, reaching out to shake his hand. He did, but if was brief, and then she was moving over to Stiles. “And Stiles, also nice to see you as well. How have you been since I saw you last?”  
“Great!” He answered, a nervous grin on his face. “Derek took me to work with him. Plus, between you and me I think he is warming up to the idea of keeping me around.” He threw a wink in Derek’s direction. Derek wasn’t certain if Stiles understood the whole purpose of ‘between you and me,’ and that it was not actually supposed to be shared with others present in the room, or loud enough for everyone to hear.

“That’s very good to hear,” she told him before waving her hand to the side in a broad gesture. “Please, come forward so that I can do a couple of generic tests. I promise they won’t hurt.”

And Derek could tell that Stiles was nervous, so he nodded confidently when Stiles looked at him. The android stepped forward, and Marin grabbed small, silver patches from a table next to a large machine in the middle of the room and started placing them on Stiles’ skin. A patch on the back of each hand, one on his neck, his cheek, his ankle under his sock, his stomach. Then she placed what looked like a heart monitor clip on the tip of his finger. Finally, she hooked him up to a charging platform.

Derek watched all of it, and ended up moving a bit closer to Stiles, promising silently that he was not going anywhere. So when the machine that seemed to be connected to Stiles kicked on, making a loud humming noise, Stiles didn’t even seem nervous, he just kept his eyes trained on Derek.

This particular test took an hour. An hour of Derek standing and making sure Stiles was okay, and Marin staring at a computer screen. Stiles seemed to get incredibly bored, but he didn’t actually speak. Scott waited patiently for the test to finish, sticking true to his word that he would not leave Stiles in the room.

When Marin finally moved away from the computer, the machine hummed a bit louder, and Stiles’ eyes began flashing their concentric circles. “I’ve managed to copy the programs he has installed, even ones that he hasn’t fully recovered yet. But they’re confusing,” she told Derek, but she turned to look at Stiles. The model seemed completely zoned out.

“What do you mean confusing?” Derek asked, walking to stand next to her.

“I mean, some of them don’t actually exist,” she answered. “Stiles, by the machine’s calculations, shouldn’t exist.”

The answer made Derek’s heart freeze for a moment. Stiles shouldn’t exist? And how the hell was he supposed to react to that? How was he supposed to react to the fact that the creators of fucking android computers had no idea what Stiles was made of? Derek bit the inside of his cheek and turned to look at the model hooked up to the large machine. Stiles barely seemed to register that there was anyone else in the room. It made his heart ache. “But he does exist.”

There was another moment of silence before a door opened in a location Derek hadn’t seen before. A man walked out of it, a white coat similar to Marin’s on his form. He had the same vague look of kindness on his face, and Derek could have figured out who it was even if he hadn’t seen his face plastered on magazines and billboards. Doctor Deaton walked forward and gave Derek a polite smile, his hand extending.

“Mr. Hale?” He asked, voice soothing and with the same sing-song tone as Marin. They were definitely related.

“Doctor Deaton?” Derek asked in return, eyebrows pulling together.

“Pleasure to meet you. Doctor Morrell told me about your android the other day. I have certainly been looking forward to meeting him. I was just looking at some of the information being pulled from him in my office.” Then Deaton turned to look Stiles over, his arms crossing over his chest. Again, there was silence, and Derek disliked this situation more and more.

“Scott, could you come here?” Deaton asked, bringing out a hand to wave the Weretech model over. And Scott listened, walking over and standing next to Stiles. Marin also seemed to know what Deaton was thinking, and she went to go grab a long cord.

Once she had it, she flipped open one of Scott’s fingertips. It looked kind of weird, and even though there was nothing but another port inside, it still made Derek feel a little sick. Then Marin moved and did the same thing to Stiles, connecting their fingers by the chord. Stiles didn’t react, but Scott seemed to zone out a little as well. Marin moved to step back near Deaton and Derek, observing the androids.

“Alright, Scott, you know what to do,” Deaton said with a nod of his head. The Weretech model nodded back before his skin began to glow in a similar silver color to Stiles. It took a moment, but Stiles seemed to glow all the brighter in response.

“Accessing storage files and memory,” Scott said, voice sounding flat, and it lacked its normal happy inflections. Circles began to appear in his eyes, and his face went completely blank. “Undetectable programming. Unregistered model.” He began saying, his eyes suddenly shaking violently back and forth. “Owner information corrupted. Model is unregistered. Firewall. Firewall. Firewall.” Not only were his eyes shaking now, but Scott’s entire body began to shake. The glow on his body began to flash red instead of remain silver.

Derek tensed and stepped forward, wanting to go and disconnect them. He wondered if Stiles was hurting Scott, or the other way around, but Stiles seemed perfectly calm. Would disconnecting them injure either of them too? Morrell and Deaton shared a glance between each other before Marin stepped past Derek and toward Scott.  
“Obviously this was not the better choice,” she said calmly, walking and taking hold of Scott’s hand. “Scott, cancel. Abort trying to access Stiles’ memory files.” And the moment she said that, Scott stopped shaking. His entire body seemed to collapse on itself, but he remained standing. Marin sighed and pulled the chord from both models’ fingers.  
“Definitely didn’t go well, but entirely expected,” Deaton answered, more to himself than anyone.

Scott was taken from the room after a few minutes to run diagnostics and check for any damages to his hardware or software. And then the next few hours were devoted to running tests on Stiles. All the while, Marin and Deaton remained quiet, sharing glances occasionally, and acting as if Derek wasn’t there at all. It irritated him, but really, he was just there to make sure Stiles wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t understand anything they had to tell him anyway. He ended up at the feet of the model. Somewhere in the middle of the day, they were given lunch by an Allison model, and Derek thought it was weird seeing her in clothing Erica would hate.

“For now, all we can do is go over information we’ve gathered,” Deaton finally came to tell him while Derek was dozing and leaning against the giant, humming machine in the middle of the room. “Take Stiles home. Don’t have him do too much at first. And get some rest yourself. I will call you with more information later tonight. But for right now, we are still in the same boat that we were this morning. I know absolutely nothing new about your model, other than the fact that he as a firewall blocking his information that’s strong enough to fry one of my androids. And that means he’s powerful. That means his creator knows a lot about programming.”

And Deaton sounded reassuring somehow, even if the information he was giving was almost ominous. “Okay, okay,” Derek answered, scrubbing a hand over his face and getting up. “Yeah, you have my number. Just give me a call or something.”

Deaton smiled at him, and suddenly Derek got the feel that no, he wasn’t being told everything.

Still, Marin took the little patches off of Stiles, and the android came back to life, his grin automatically finding his face. “Hey dude,” he grinned at Derek. Derek was oddly comforted by that. The model stepped off of the charging platform and reached down to unplug himself. “So, what did you find?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Derek answered with a sigh. He slipped his hands into his pockets and watched Stiles stretch out.

“Nothing? That’s not very helpful.” The android glanced around, and his face fell slightly. “Where’s Scott?”

“You don’t remember?” Derek asked, wetting his lips nervous. When Stiles shook his head, Derek shrugged a shoulder. “He just had some minor malfunctions. Went to get a checkup. He’ll be okay though.” He didn’t exactly want to tell Stiles that he may have permanently damaged his friend, even if Deaton and Morrell didn’t seem too worried about the Weretech model.

But since Derek wasn’t sure Scott would be okay, that meant that Stiles could tell he was covering something up, and Stiles wasn’t comforted. So Marin stepped in instead. “Trust me, Stiles. Scott was here as long as he could be, but his model isn’t complete yet. There are still a few minor kinks to work out, alright?” And she smiled at him.  
“Okay,” Stiles said, though the look on his face told Derek that he still wasn’t sure they were telling him the truth.

They left soon after, and Derek made sure that they didn’t linger in the building. He wanted Stiles out of there, and he wanted to give Doctor Morrell and Doctor Deaton enough time to examine the information so they could get back to him ASAP.  
As soon as the door closed behind Derek and Stiles, Marin turned to look at Deaton and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know exactly who made Stiles,” she stated, giving her brother a narrow-eyed look.

“I do,” Deaton answered her, sighing softly and pressing a button on his watch. He brought it to his mouth and waited for a moment. “Scott, would you please bring me my rejected model designs? The ones I designed with my old partner?”

There was a pause, and then Scott’s voice came on over the watch. “Of course, sir. But aren’t those confidential to the point that you don’t even want any of your models seeing them? Or you sister?”

“We’re breaking that rule for today, Scott,” Deaton answered and then pulled away from the watch. He looked up at Marin, who was still fixing him with a cold stare.

“You think that your old partner was the one to create him? Didn’t you destroy all the copies of his designs?” She asked.

“There is a reason we were partners, Marin. It’s not like he couldn’t have recreated everything, even with the files destroyed. He knew all of my plans. He was the one that created all of the software, I created the shell. I don’t think that it’s him, I know it is. But just the same as there was a reason we were partners, there was also a reason that I fired him and broke off our partnership. I never destroyed the files because I wondered if this might happen. We need to figure out just what Stiles is made of. And we won’t be telling Derek or Stiles any of what we find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, totally vague ending! Be prepared for the next chapter to be adorable before everything comes crashing down! Just a warning.


	7. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little over a month passes since the meeting with Deaton, and Derek is becoming increasingly worried about his attraction to his model. After a worrying instance with Stiles' memory, Derek takes to finding someone to lay to take his mind off the android. It doesn't work according to plan. In fact, everything goes flat out wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this chapter gets a bit explicit (masturbation). And then you finally find out who the owner is! I hope you enjoy it, sorry I totally can't write a masturbation scene. Yes I leave off at a cliffhanger.

A little after a month passed since the meeting with Deaton, and no call from Stiles’ owner ever came. Even when Deaton had called that night, he couldn’t offer anything new, and said he had no idea of who the owner might be. Go figure. So it remained a mystery all the while two promises Derek made to Stiles were now staring him in the face. And Stiles recognized that Derek was struggling with them, and seemed to dangle them in his face even more.

It had taken about a week after the meeting for Derek to start referring to Stiles as his own model. And he did start using Stiles to keep his work files on, as well as just using him for work in general (which Stiles loved). Eventually, he told Isaac and Boyd that he was keeping Stiles, and the two finally met him. They seemed as confused as Derek was at the beginning because Stiles was so different from normal models, but both generally seemed to like him. Erica was there for the meeting too, but since she already liked Stiles it wasn’t as big of a deal for her. The three of them enjoyed watching Derek react to someone so full of energy though. Derek had never been the type to enjoy fast talkers, or people that moved a lot, or people that interrupted him, but Stiles did all of those things and somehow Derek still tolerated him. 

So Derek officially had Stiles, Erica was still very happy with Allison as her model. (Isaac was told to wait for Scott’s model to hit the market, of course. He agreed to wait only because he was nowhere near the amount of money he needed yet. He was extremely jealous of Derek’s luck.)

One thing that had Derek worrying, however, was that Stiles had not fully restored yet. It took him a few days to finally hit eighty percent, and when he did, Derek was certain he would break his own firewall. That way they could get information and figure out whatever situation they were in. But that was also nerve-wracking, because that meant with Derek now settled and comfortable with Stiles being a part of his life, the model would be taken away once the owner’s information was recovered. And Derek’s uneasiness toward Stiles’ former owner never went away, especially after the faces Stiles kept making when he was brought up. It was like Stiles couldn’t remember who the guy was, but had ghost memories of him being…Derek wasn’t sure, bad? Every once in a while Stiles would just look like he was afraid.

A week after Stiles hit eighty percent, he hit ninety percent. There was only so far to go, so how many memories could be buried deep inside the android’s memory? He could recall almost everything but personal information. A day after he hit ninety percent, he stopped at ninety-five percent and announced it like he normally would every ten. He was finally able to recall more about himself then, original favorite color (well, two colors, orange and blue), original favorite smell, original favorite book, (all favorites that were not previously altered by Derek) and even memories, except the faces were blurred out. None of his new memories involved hints at who his creator might be. Derek was officially getting frustrated, but he insisted Stiles keep trying to recover whatever he could.

A few more days later, he’d refuse for Stiles to continue trying that too. The android went with Derek to work like normal, and was working on calculating some of the recent account files when he completely froze up. It took Derek a moment, but when he noticed Stiles hadn’t moved, he looked up from the paper on his desk.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, standing up from his desk slowly. Stiles still didn’t move. “Stiles?” He said again, taking a step from behind his desk and toward the android.

“Error,” Stiles announced before his skin started to glow vibrantly. “Error, files are corrupted. Cannot access files. Error.”

It wasn’t something he was used to, and it wasn’t something Derek had ever seen Stiles do before. He walked up behind the android and placed a hand on his shoulder. A move he regretted, as Stiles began shaking furiously. “Error, error, error, error, corrupted files, corrupted files.”

“Stiles, Stiles, what’s happening?” Derek asked, voice rising slowly in panic with absolutely no idea what was going on. But asking was kind of useless too, because he doubted Stiles would be able to help him. It seemed kind of similar to what Scott had done at Weretech Inc. when he had been hooked up to Stiles, but it was much more intense now. Stiles was shaking a lot more than Scott had.

Quickly, Derek moved in front of the model and cupped the android’s jaw in his hands. “Stiles, you need more words than just ‘error’! Come back! Stop trying to access the files!” But it didn’t help. Stiles’ eyes began glowing brightly, his entire body shuddering violently.

“Stiles, it’s Derek! Come on, you know I suck at using computers! I won’t know how to fix you! Stiles, tell me how to fix you.”

“Derek,” Stiles answered in a low voice. Then his eyes managed to get back to normal, even if the rest of his body was still glowing. The android reached to grab onto Derek’s shoulders, and he squeezed tightly. It was enough to hurt the human, but he wasn’t focusing on that. Stiles’ face contorted into something that resembled crying, sobbing, but no tears actually fell. “Derek, Derek, my head hurts. My head hurts so much.”

“Stop trying to access the files. Come back to me. Stay with me. Ah—Abort? Abort processing?” He was grabbing at straws here. But wasn’t that what they had told Scott when this happened before?

Whatever he said seemed to have worked. Stiles’ skin slowly returned to normal too, and suddenly the android was collapsing against Derek’s chest. Stiles’ entire body seemed hot. Incredibly hot. The human reached to put a hand on the back of Stiles’ head and was shocked it didn’t burn him; it felt hot enough to.

“My head hurts so much, Derek…” Stiles mumbled.

It didn’t make sense, but Derek smirked at the sentence, and more trying to lighten the situation than anything, he answered, “now you know what my first two weeks with you were like.” When Stiles looked unsure if he should take it seriously or not, Derek actually smiled and moved his hand down to rub Stiles’ back in gentle circles. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

“No, no, nooo, we don’t have to leave, you have work to do!” Stiles practically whined, but winced slightly at the same time. That definitely made Derek’s decision clearer.  
“Then I’ll finish it at home, let’s go,” Derek insisted, easing Stiles upward and ignoring his protests.

They packed up, Stiles moving slower than normal, and headed out of the office. Derek did his best to shield Stiles from being talked to or fussed over on the way out, and he sent an email to his boss about leaving on his phone (it was a very slow going process).

Even when they were outside, Derek still opted to take Stiles home in a cab rather than have them walk back to their apartment. The cab still wasn’t necessarily the best choice because the driver was kind of jerky with his turns, but it was better than having Stiles exert more energy. So jerky cab or not, Derek felt it was much better than walking.

“Derek, Derek, how do you humans live with stuff like this?” Stiles grumbled, placing his palms on his temples. “This is absolutely unbearable.”

“You get used to it,” Derek answered, putting an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pulling him closer. He was still burning up. “You know, I didn’t know that firewall literally meant getting hot,” Derek said, mostly in jest because he at least knew that wasn’t the case, but maybe it would make Stiles feel better. Obviously Stiles did not though. He gave a bit of a glare up at Derek.

“A firewall is just a security system that controls incoming and outgoing traffic, Derek. It’s not actually made of fire.” He seemed to huff a bit, and Derek just grinned at him.  
Once they were finally back, Derek had Stiles sit down on the couch, but that was about all he knew on what to do. Stiles couldn’t use pain killers, right? They wouldn’t work. Sleep wouldn’t help, because he didn’t sleep. Would charging help? Probably not. A hot shower probably wouldn’t help either. So what could he do to help Stiles? Nothing. Stiles was an android; he shouldn’t feel pain. This was a new level of unknown to both Derek and science alike.

But comfort improved things, right? Stiles said cuddling would improve Derek’s mood, but would it help Stiles’ being “ill”? It was worth a shot. Derek quickly went to change out of his work clothes before moving back to the couch, where Stiles was laying on his side, head on a pillow.

“How is your head?” He asked quietly.

“Still hurts,” Stiles whined.

With a bit of a snort, because Stiles was acting more childish than Derek did when he was sick, he moved Stiles toward the edge of the couch and crawled on behind him. Stiles gave him an odd look, but Derek didn’t care. Comfort was important.

It wasn’t like they didn’t still sleep in the same bed at night and end up spooning. Actually, they had fallen into the pattern of doing it every single night. Derek would wake plastered to Stiles’ back, or he would wake up with Stiles nestled against his. Whenever they did wake up nestled into each other, neither of them said anything after. Stiles never made a comment to Derek, which he appreciated and made it easier for Derek not to say anything either.

So they just accepted it, and Derek enjoyed sharing space with the android. It was a nice distraction from being alone at night, even though Derek had always told himself that he was okay with it. He was fine being alone, he really was. Generally, he found it was better than being in a relationship.

But after spending all of this time so close to Stiles, Derek couldn’t help but realize that he was beginning to feel warm around Stiles, or how his presence made Derek feel calm, or that he couldn’t help but feel everything was wrong when Stiles wasn’t around. It was alarming to say the least. Derek would not, would not, feel something for an android. Stiles’ feelings were artificial, they weren’t real. So how could Derek love honestly when it wasn’t returned honestly? He tried not to think about it.

Though not thinking about it was difficult when the thinking involved Stiles and how attractive he was. It was difficult for Derek not to think of the android’s body fitting perfectly aligned with his, or how it seemed real enough that there were muscles below the synthetic skin, even if there weren’t. And Stiles was warm, smelled spiced, and his lips were gorgeous and it just…it was just too much. It was as if his owner designed Stiles to be as enticing as possible, even as an android. There was no way Derek would stoop so low as needing something fake for sex. He needed to get laid by a human, a person.

But it wasn’t the time to be thinking about any of that anyway. Stiles wasn’t feeling well and Derek needed to fix it. He put on a movie, pulled a blanket over them, and pulled Stiles close. Eventually the android cooled to a better temperature, but he still seemed kind of out of it.

As much as Derek wanted an explanation, he knew he didn’t want to press it and risk hurting Stiles even more. He didn’t want Stiles working too hard.

It wasn’t until a few days after that that Stiles seemed to get back to normal. He seemed well enough that Derek decided he could be home alone. The human needed to get out of the apartment and act on whatever instinct he was feeling at the moment. Every time he saw Stiles bend over, or stretch, or play with his lips when he was bored, Derek found it harder and harder to not think of breaking his no android sex rule. So it was absolutely time to go pick up someone at a bar.

He talked Isaac and Erica into going with him even if Erica thought it was a terrible idea.

“I don’t think you’ll be as happy as you think you will,” she warned him in a way he thought was obnoxious.

Still, she went. When they were at the bar, he discovered just why she thought that he wouldn’t be happy.

“I don’t think Stiles will be very pleased with you,” she mumbled and scrunched her nose at a guy trying to buy her a drink.

“Well, that’s good and all, but Stiles can’t actually, y’know, care,” Isaac answered for Derek.

Really, Derek didn’t like the answer, but it made Erica glare at Isaac rather than him for the first time all night, which was a blessing. “He’ll be fine,” Derek added on.

Erica turned up her nose a bit, huffed, and walked away, probably to call Boyd. She always tired of the way people hit on her at bars, which was a complete 180 from how she was in college. Derek was fine with her either way, and she seemed happy with Boyd.

“Ignore her, dude,” Isaac said before pointing into the crowd. “And go enjoy her for the night. Man, she is kind of definitely hot.”

Derek glanced out into the crowd where Isaac was pointing and saw a tall, brunette woman. She was dancing on her own, and he tracked the movement of her hips. They moved nicely. He took in a breath and made his way over. He didn’t even have to say anything to her before she was pulling him closer, slotting one of his legs between her thighs.   
They danced; at some point she ended up turning around and pressing her ass back against him, and it wasn’t very elegant. It was a lot of rubbing against each other, and warm bodies touching, and sweat. Derek’s hands found her waist, and she rolled back against him. He tried so hard to feel as turned on as he wanted to be. He wasn’t.

“What’s your name?” She asked in a breathy tone.

“Derek, yours?” He answered.

“Jennifer.”

And that was all they spoke.

A half hour later, he was pressing her into a wall outside the club, and kissing, and trying to get lost in the feeling instead of thinking about synthetic, perfect lips, and big golden eyes. It didn’t work as well as he wanted it to. Jennifer’s lips were smaller, she was shorter, she was thinner. She didn’t have freckles. But he still raked his hands up and down the curves of her body to try and ignore his own thoughts.

“You want to get out of here?” She asked, as Derek moved to mouth at her neck.

“Yeah,” he answered, watching goose bumps rise on his skin from where his breath hit. “Let’s go.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her away when his phone rang. Cursing quietly, he grabbed it and answered, “hello?”

“Derek?”

Fuck. It would be Stiles, of course. It just had to be Stiles right at this moment. “What is it, Stiles?”

“Can you come home, please?”

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair and Jennifer gave him an irritated look before crossing her arms over her chest. This wasn’t good. Really not good. “Is something wrong?” He asked quickly, looking away from the seemingly angry woman.

“No,” Stiles said simply before adding, “it’s just kind of lonely.”

And that stung. Derek sighed again. “Yeah, I’ll head back, okay?” Then he hung up and looked at Jennifer. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off by raising her hand.

“Are you married?” She practically growled.

“No,” Derek answered quickly. “I’m not married, I just, it’s my model.”

“You’re leaving me for a fucking computer?” She didn’t look like she believed him. And when Derek just shrugged, she clicked her tongue on the back of her teeth and walked away. “I would have preferred you were married.”

That stung a little too, but he couldn’t dwell on that now. Derek scrubbed a hand over his face and moved back into the club. He found Erica and Isaac and convinced them to leave, almost dragging them out to head back to their apartments. Erica looked more than a little smug at the turn of events.

When Derek got home, he looked around the main room quickly, and when he didn’t see Stiles, he grumbled to himself. He found the android in his room, lying on the bed with his eyes glowing in concentric circles.

“Stiles?” He asked quietly, pulling off his shirt.

“Shhhh,” Stiles hushed and held up a finger. “I’m reading.”

“Then why did you call me to come home?” As adorable as Stiles reading was, he was more than a little irritated that Stiles called him home just for that.

“I figured you would want to shower before spending time with me, and by the sound of fabric being pulled off, I am right.” He smirked then, and Derek rolled his eyes even if Stiles was totally correct.

“Yes, I’m showering,” he mumbled. “I smell like alcohol.” And cheap sex. Derek shook his head and made his way to the bathroom. Stiles remained smirking on the bed.

In the shower, Derek closed his eyes and just felt the water. It wasn’t wrong, what he did that night. It was in no way a betrayal to Stiles, because they weren’t together, and Stiles wasn’t human, he wasn’t someone that could love him back. So it wasn’t cheating in any sense of the word. But if he was honest with himself, Derek hadn’t even felt attracted to her with her body rubbing against his. It had been impossible to try and convince his dick to harden.

And maybe it was because he was relaxed now, or maybe because everything that had happened just caught up with him, and his senses were dulled, but Derek allowed himself to think of Stiles. It was an experiment, and a moment of weakness. But he imagined moles, and eyelashes, and warmth. He imagined Stiles’ smell and Stiles’ hands. He imagined Stiles grinding against him in the way Jennifer had. He imagined Stiles pulling him close, shoving his ass against him and rocking. He imagined Stiles.

It was a bit pathetic how quickly Derek felt himself get aroused. His entire body heated up at the thought of Stiles below him, on top of him, pressed against him. Where he hadn’t for one second felt a tightness in his abdomen, or a swell in his chest the entire time with Jennifer, he barely even had to think of Stiles to get a reaction. He didn’t need any coaxing to get hard.

Groaning softly, Derek moved a hand to wrap around his cock, shuddering at the feeling because really it had been a while. He set a slow rhythm at first, letting the water make it that much easier to slide his hand along his shaft, hating himself for imagining Stiles’ hand, or Stiles’ mouth instead of his own hand but there was no stopping it now. He had caved, and it was impossible to stop. Derek moaned and moved to tighten curl his fingers around his head, giving short, quick thrusts of his hand before sliding down along the entire length again. His head tilted back against the wall of the shower, eyes closing to absorb the feeling.

It was quick, but it was heavy. The water heated his body to the point that he felt a little faint, his hand moving to keep up a strong pace. Derek was way harder than he’d been in a while, maybe since he even discovered masturbation was a thing. And it was all because he pictured Stiles sprawled in front of him, sans clothing, moaning under Derek while he allowed his finger tips to explore whatever part of the synthetic body that he could.

His cock began to feel hot and heavy in his hand, and he was so far gone he couldn’t even think of the fact he shouldn’t because Stiles was an android. Fine, alright, so he wanted to have sex with a robot. People had sex with their models, and Derek might as well give in and let himself become one of those people. Stiles was hot without even trying to be.  
While he felt himself get closer, his breathing sped up to quick huffs that were interrupted by low moans he needed to try and force quiet in case he would be heard. But that only led him back to the thought of Stiles on his bed, and him going in to Stiles on his bed and kissing the android senseless. Derek swirled his thumb around the head of his cock, found the sensitive spot on the underside of the head and just pressed in. From there he brought his thumb to run along his slit, each motion just a teaser for how he imagined Stiles’ tongue to be.

His orgasm hit him hard, and Derek found himself gasping, hand splayed on the tile wall behind him to hold himself up right while his road it out, holding back with everything he had from saying Stiles’ name to the air. It took him a few moments to come down from the high, and by then he was slowly washing come from his hand and thighs. And still, all he could think about was cleaning Stiles up after taking him, and pulling him in close. Kissing him softly.

This was an absolute disaster.

When Derek got back out, he walked to his room hesitantly. Of course he forgotten to bring clothes with him and now felt entirely exposed in nothing but a towel around his damp hips. The awkwardness was emphasized by the thoughts of what he just did in the bathroom while thinking about the android on the bed. And when Stiles seemed to notice he was back, the android blinked the circles from his eyes and stared at the human, maybe a little too long. Lips parted and a blush rising to his cheeks and Derek suddenly felt odd and hot in the room.

“Oh, uh, coming to bed now?” Stiles asked, standing so he could pull the sheets back.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” Derek mumbled as he walked to get clothing from the dresser.

“Good, good,” Stiles said, putting his hand down to lean on the bed. He completely missed, with his eyes glued to Derek’s back however, and he fell onto it very ungracefully. “Shit!” He exclaimed before scrambling up and rubbing his nose. “You didn’t see that, right?”

“See what?” Derek asked while examining a shirt, because no, he had completely missed whatever Stiles had been doing.

Stiles sighed in relief.

Derek crawled onto the bed next to Stiles, but made it a point to stay as far to one side as absolutely possible. There was absolutely no way he was going to touch Stiles, not with him being this pent up after what had happened that night. The android seemed to get the message and did the same, staying on his side and quietly charging. They laid like this for a while, and Derek knew he wasn’t about to get to sleep because he kept honing in on little things, like the light glow occasionally coming off Stiles, the soft scent coming off the android’s skin, the occasional whirl of machinery.

The android sat up a bit and leaned over toward Derek. “Hey, I can read to yo—“

But he was cut off as Derek grabbed his arm and pulled him over, lips crashing together in a way that was almost painful. Stiles tried to say something in surprise but it was muffled, and Derek closed his eyes as tightly as they could go, shocked that he actually acted on the impulse. But he didn’t pull away, and Stiles didn’t try to either. They hesitated, lips simply pressed together, unsure of how to move next.

After a moment, they both sank into the kiss, Derek’s body relaxing and Stiles leaning a little more into him. Slowly, Derek moved a hand to the back of Stiles’ neck, fingers carding through his hair, and Stiles seemed to rise into it, a glow coming to his cheeks. It remained chaste, as if they were just trying to figure out what this was, if it could be considered friendly. But it quickly evolved into something more.

Derek began to place kiss after kiss after kiss against Stiles’ lips, each one becoming more and more heated as he did it. Stiles allowed him, leaning into each kiss, his hands finding Derek’s shoulders so that he could keep himself balanced. And Derek wasn’t bothered by the glow, because it all felt so real. Stiles’ skin felt real, and his hands felt real, and the heat coming from his body felt real.

Daring to explore more, Derek dipped his tongue out and licked a stripe along the middle of Stiles’ lips. The android gasped, actually gasped, and opened his mouth. And somehow he felt real there too. Derek slide his tongue along Stiles’, feeling, tasting, examining and he was warm, smooth, wet even.

He wasn’t sure how long it continued for, all Derek knew was that he relished in the soft sounds Stiles made, and the way they felt pressed together. He hadn’t kissed someone in a long time, not before earlier in the night with Jennifer. But he didn’t care about her; he hadn’t felt anything. Oddly enough, with Stiles it didn’t feel as mechanical, as programmed, as it had with Jennifer. The irony was abundant, and the realization made Derek pause, pull back. Stiles opened his eyes and stared down at him before he smiled in a shy way.

“I need to sleep,” Derek told him gently, his voice much lower than he remembered it ever being. And Stiles just nodded at him, biting down onto his lower lip. Derek resisted every impulse he had not to take the android’s mouth again. But Stiles slowly rolled off of him, and Derek took in a breath. It would have been easier to continue fantasizing on his own, but now he acted on it. This just got complicated.

In the morning, Stiles shifted awake before Derek. The android sat up and stretched his arms over his head, trying to ignore the bright light coming through the window by keeping his eyes closed. When he finally did look at Derek, he smiled, apparently enjoying the sight of the human sleeping with his arms wrapped around a pillow. Slowly, the glow coming back to his cheeks, Stiles leaned in and placed a warm kiss on Derek’s lips. Derek stirred, but didn’t wake up.

“Good morning, Derek. I’ll go make you breakfast,” Stiles said sweetly, slipping out of the bed and unplugging his ankle.

A half hour later, Derek was waking to the sound of soft music coming from his phone. With a grumble, he rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes. He could already smell whatever Stiles was making him downstairs (he started buying more food at the grocery store that Stiles could cook with, just accepting the android would make him stuff) and smiled softly. The model had been finding different recipes lately and making Derek try them, attempting to “expand his horizons.”

So the human made his way downstairs and smirked at the android cooking. Neither of them brought up what happened the previous night, but Stiles seemed to blush anyway. Derek walked over and stood next to him, looking at whatever was on the stove, he didn’t recognize it.

“So what are you making?” He asked.

“Not telling, you just have to wait and find out,” Stiles grinned back.

There was a knock on the door, and Derek looked up quickly, confused at who would be calling at this hour of morning. It had to be someone trying to sell something, or maybe it was someone in an apartment below him. He walked to the door and tried to make his hair look a little less messy, not that it helped. Still, he opened the door and looked down at the visitor anyway, and no it was no one he had ever seen in his apartment before.

The girl seemed tall, but that was only because she was wearing massively tall stiletto heels. How could someone even walk in those? Her hair was long and an unnatural shade of red, but still gorgeous and salon finished. She was perfect, beautiful, and Derek felt stunned for a moment. The girl placed a hand on her hip and pursed her lips at Derek, obviously annoyed he hadn’t said anything yet. He snapped out of it by shaking his head. “Um, can I help you?” He asked.

That’s when she smiled, but it was almost malicious. “Derek Hale? I’ve come for Stiles.”

Derek felt like he’d been hit in the gut. He had to blink a few times, but the girl was still there. “Stiles, what do you want with Stiles? You’re his owner?”

“Incorrect,” the girl answered. She blinked, and when her eyelids opened, they were glowing in circles of pink. Derek practically choked on air. “I am a prototype for a new software my creator is perfecting. My name is Lydia. I have come to commandeer the prototype named as Stiles who has been residing here for the better side of two months. Please hand him over or I have been requested to take him by force.”

“Wait, what?” Derek asked, still trying to process everything. “You can’t—You were built by Stiles’ owner? No, you can’t take him.” He moved his arm out to block Lydia, as if that would stop her. “There is no way that you are taking him back. I want to talk to your owner.” And it was weird, because after everything that had happened, after wanting for weeks at the beginning to have Stiles’ owner come and get him, there was no way Derek could part with the android now that the opportunity was presented to him. Why did everything have to come crumbling down now?

The model shoved Derek’s arm out of the way like it was nothing before she took long strides into the apartment and turned, immediately looking at Stiles. Derek rushed after her, but he wasn’t sure how he was actually going to stop her. She was a million times stronger, and he didn’t even legally own Stiles.

“Hi,” Stiles grinned, “who are you?”

“My name is Lydia, I am a prototype for a new software our creator is perfecting. Stiles, I have been instructed to retrieve you, come with me.” And she took a step toward him, but the moment she did Stiles was backing away.

“Derek? Derek?” He asked, voice thick with panic. “Derek, no, I don’t want to go! Don’t let her take me back to him; I don’t want her to take me back to him! I want to stay with you!” And it hurt, but Derek couldn’t do anything. He didn’t own Stiles. He felt absolutely helpless. He couldn’t stop this other model physically, and even if he could legally he wouldn’t be allowed.

Lydia looked annoyed but didn’t answer. Instead she took out a small disc and pushed it between her fingers. Derek wanted to stop it, he wanted to press a button and cut it out of reality, he didn’t want Stiles to go. The female model walked over to Stiles, easily pushing his hands away when he tried to push her back and pressed the disc to the back of Stiles’ neck. Automatically, the android shut down stopped moving, stopped glowing, stopped anything. His head drooped down, his eyes closed. 

Derek felt the breath sucked out of him, and Lydia looked back at him, no emotion apparent on her face. “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Hale. My creator will be in touch with you in a few days. His name is Peter Hale, and yes, ironically a distant relation of yourself. Have a good day.” And then they were gone before Derek had time to process everything to say goodbye. But it wasn’t like Stiles would have heard him anyway. Lydia had simply picked up her fellow android and walked out the door. He barely heard the door close, and felt life drain out of him. He didn’t move until he smelled whatever was on the stove start to burn.

Stiles was gone.


	8. Human After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Lydia has taken Stiles, Derek needs to set to work on getting him back. Deaton helps give him important information on Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for sticking with me! Real life got pretty hectic, so I couldn't post. Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry I haven't been able to answer as many comments as I was before either. Trust me, I appreciate them all! You guys commenting have totally encouraged me to keep going. You rock! Thanks <3

It had taken until later that night for everything to actually hit Derek. He had managed to go to work, though he seemed in a haze the entire day. In fact, he barely remembered any of it at all. He remembered the several people who asked if he was alright, and he remembered even more who asked where Stiles was. He couldn’t answer them. Instead, he just walked away from them, until he eventually locked himself away in his office. Since he wasn’t in his apartment, it was easy to believe that Stiles would be there when he got back.

He wasn’t.

Derek walked into the empty apartment and looked around. There was no smell of something cooking, there was no annoying television show playing in the background, or loud, energetic music coming from somewhere in the apartment. There was no “yo, Derek,” or “how was work, Derek?” No “Derek.” There was absolutely nothing.

And he felt like such an idiot, because he knew that it was going to happen. He knew it had to happen. Stiles’ owner was going to come and get him right when he started feeling comfortable with the android, and that was exactly what happened. Except it was a million times worse than “just being comfortable with him.” Derek actually…Derek had started accepting whatever he was feeling. Then this Peter Hale (apparently a distant relative, which made his skin crawl) came and retrieved his “property.” And Derek couldn’t stop it. He had wanted to keep the android in his life, got used to Stiles being around and helping him out with everything, and had wrapped his head around the idea of keeping the model. Derek looked forward to sleeping in the same bed with him every night. And now it was all back to the way it was before.

Shouldn’t he be happy? He was the one that put up the lost posters. He was the one that persisted in figuring out who Stiles’ owner was. He didn’t want the model originally, at all. Derek should be glad that there was no pesky, twitchy, hyperactive computer to bother him. He could go back to his normal routines, and he could stop fantasizing about something fake.

But all of that just made his heart feel heavier.

All it took was a quick shower for Derek to realize that he needed to do something. Stiles had always looked sick at the idea of going back to his owner. Stiles had begged Derek to not let Lydia take him back to Peter when she appeared. Had Stiles known all along? Had he remembered what Peter was like? Or was it a gut reaction? Derek wasn’t sure, but one thing he was positive about was that he would make sure Peter Hale knew that he was ready to fight. He would make sure Peter wouldn’t harm one synthetic hair on Stiles’ body. He was going to pull every resource he had.

He called Erica first, and explained everything to her. She seemed torn between trying to support Derek, tell him she was sorry and that if he needed her to come over and bring booze and ice cream that she totally would, but she also seemed completely ready to storm Peter Hale’s house and tear down the walls. Erica was seriously one of the best people to ever come into his life. They agreed to meet the next day, and they would figure out what needed to be done. She called Boyd for him, and Derek called Isaac. Isaac seemed more than ready to jump at the opportunity to get Stiles back.

When did Derek get such loyal and awesome friends?

Next, Derek called Doctor Deaton, because he was the only one Derek could think of that would know a lot about other computer creators. Maybe Deaton could ask around, figure out more about Peter Hale. Derek was most certainly going to Google the hell out of the guy once he was off the phone. However, Deaton would be a much more reliable source than any site on the Internet. That was, if Deaton would even answer his phone. It was fairly late.

“Derek?” The sing-song voice answered on the other line. Derek’s heart sped up. Good, this was good. Deaton answered.

“Doctor Deaton, hello,” Derek said abruptly, clutching his phone with both hands. “Sorry for calling so late, but I wanted to know if you know a Peter Hale?”

There was a long pause from the other line, and Derek felt his hope plummet. No, he didn’t know. Deaton didn’t know and Derek would have to find the information out for himself. That would be difficult, because he barely knew how to text. But then Deaton gave a short “yes,” and Derek practically sighed in relief.

“Okay, well, I just found out that Peter is Stiles’ creator,” he said and was prepared to explain more, but as he opened his mouth again, Deaton cut him off with “I know.”

“You know?” Derek asked, falling into a chair. “How do you know? When did you know?” And why hadn’t Deaton told him?

“I’ve known since the day we tested him.” For the second time today, Derek felt like he’d been hit in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of him. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“What? What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t something you needed to know. I figured that, if Peter threw his android away and you found him, it wouldn’t be so bad for you to keep him. I don’t think Peter cares about a broken android and I didn’t think you would have kept him if you found out his owner had a name and a face.”

The explanation was simple, and it was totally justified. Derek probably wouldn’t have kept Stiles, but that didn’t make him feel any less lied to or betrayed. It didn’t mean that he didn’t feel if he had known, Stiles would be here right now. “Deaton, Peter took Stiles back.”

“He what?” Deaton asked, suddenly sounding very taken aback.

“Some model named Lydia came here today and shut him down, took Stiles back and said to look up Peter Hale.”

There was another long silence, and Derek sucked in a breath. Maybe Deaton would tell him there was nothing he could do? That Peter was Stiles’ owner, and that was that. But no, Deaton surprised him once again. “Derek, I need you to come and see me tomorrow when you get off work. Scott will let you in. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I assure you.”  
“Really, are you sure? You’re not busy?”

“I am extremely busy, but this is far more important,” Deaton answered. “I will see you tomorrow. Gates will open for you automatically. Don’t do anything rash.”

And then the doctor hung up. Derek wasn’t sure how he should actually feel, whether he should be relieved or whether he should worry. What would Peter do to Stiles in the short amount of time? What did Peter want with him after the android was gone for so long?

The thoughts nearly consumed him for the rest of the night, making it very difficult to sleep. Actually, he didn’t sleep. His eyes burned and his throat felt dry, and he tossed and turned just praying that somehow he’d go under, but it never came. He was too used to Stiles lying next to him, or Stiles reading him to sleep, or just Stiles.

So Derek fought through the night, and when he woke up in the morning, he had yogurt, and he moved on his way to work. It was grueling, tedious, tiresome, but he did it. He ignored people still asking him questions about Stiles. And when he got off later that night, Erica picked him up in her car. Surprisingly, Allison wasn’t with her, but Boyd was. She smiled brightly at him before steering away.

“We’re going to pick up Isaac, and then we’ll figure this out,” she informed him.

“Actually,” he started, “how would you guys like to get into Weretech Inc.? Meet the creators? Deaton invited me over to discuss the Stiles situation after I got off work.”

Erica and Boyd shared a look before they both smirked. Who would pass up that opportunity, really? “Sounds awesome,” Erica answered for the both of them.

Once they grabbed Isaac and moved to Weretech Inc., Derek was rushing them through the gates. Just as Deaton had said, they opened automatically for Derek. He went to the door, not minding that his friends were trailing behind to examine the building. It was something new to them, after all, and now that Derek had been there three times did not mean they wouldn’t be interested in looking at it. He entered and slipped off his shoes without them, waiting for someone (or something) to come and get him. When the others got in, they took off their shoes as well.

“Kind of weird in here, dude,” Isaac crinkled his nose.

“Reminds me of a hospital,” Boyd said, and Erica scrunched up her face a little in agreement.

“Yeah, I know,” Derek answered. “It will only get worse from here too.”

Scott suddenly burst into the room, looking a bit worried. It was weird to see that emotion on his face, considering he normally looked so happy. But Derek assumed that whatever program he was running was telling him that Derek was worried about Stiles, and that he should be too.

“Derek, did they really take Stiles?” The model asked, looking around as if he could find the android there behind the human.

Frowning, Derek nodded. “Yeah, he did, which is why we need to talk to Deaton. Can you take us to him?”

“Definitely, it’s why I was sent up here,” Scott answered before pausing and looking at Isaac, who was staring at the model. “Can I help you?”

“Uh, no,” Isaac replied quickly before scooting closer to Derek and grumbling, “I am never going to make fun of you again for thinking a model is attractive.”

Derek allowed himself to feel his pleasant, silent victory before Scott rushed them through the building and down the fifteen floors in the elevator. The others seemed to visibly have the same reactions Derek felt when he first went through the building. Really, it was comical to see the reactions that they had, but on an entirely different face.

Once out of the elevators, Scott walked them down the hall and into the same large, circular room Derek had been in before with Stiles. He imagined the android hooked up to the machine in the middle of the room and sighed softly. He had wanted to figure out who his owner was then. And Stiles probably knew. They almost shut Scott down for absolutely nothing.

The four of them waited patiently while the Weretech model moved through a door. They were all completely silent, but Derek assumed that was because they were busy taking everything in. It was a lot, after all, and this was now his third time at the headquarters, but it was only their first. Erica walked to the machine in the middle and placed her hand on it. After, she began to walk around it, as if judging everything that she could view. 

A moment later, Doctor Deaton was striding into the room with Scott in tow. He shook all of their hands before moving to Derek.

“So, we have a bit of a predicament,” he said, slipping off his gloves.

“So what will this Peter guy do?” Derek asked anxiously. That’s all he wanted to know. What would this guy do to Stiles?

Deaton sighed softly before he gestured to the door he just came out of. “Why don’t you and your friends come back with me? I have something to show you. But I need everyone’s word that you will keep what I say and show confidential, or I will not help you.”

Derek glanced at the others and they all nodded. Once everyone had given individual agreements, that Scott recorded as proof, the model turned again and led them through the wall. The interior changed drastically. The white, pristine walls changed into a hall of cold metal, where the floor was lit along the sides in a line to see by, but there were no other lights. Scott took several turns until he opened a door (actually pulled it back and held it open instead of letting it slide open with no physical touch which was nearly unseen anymore). The only door that Derek knew didn’t slide automatically was the door to his apartment, and his apartment was old. Almost too old. Doors like that just didn’t exist anymore, and they definitely shouldn’t in a place like this.

“After you,” Deaton instructed, and waved an arm for them to enter.

Inside, the room was the same metal as the hallway, and the floor was lit up along the walls here too. There were pods inside, but most of them were empty. The ones that weren’t were filled with partially constructed Weretech models, most of them without faces. And it was odd, seeing what Stiles must be made of on the inside instead of organs and blood.

“This is my office. I work on the hardware here; most of the androids I design myself. I have designed the looks of every Weretech model that has ever come out.” He gestured to Scott, who beamed at him. “But without the right software, the right programs, well, a very human-looking doll is still a doll nonetheless, and not very impressive.” With a sigh, the doctor moved over to one of the half-finished machines. “As skilled as my sister and I are, we just couldn’t get the right codes, at least not to work the way that we wanted them to.”

“And that’s where Peter came in?” Erica asked. Deaton nodded, though Derek was confused as to how she knew that. She simply grinned at him and shrugged. “I did my research before we came here.”

“Peter was and is actually an extremely skilled programmer, and I had tried for years to get him to agree to help me. He originally had no desire to work with androids. He found them hokey, too science fiction, too juvenile and fantasy filled, not enough realism. And if Peter didn’t see how something could benefit him, he was usually never on board. So then I showed him my designs. I showed him the designs for my first model and the constructed form. I tried to sell him my ideas. It grew on him. Since he was so focused on self-interest, I discussed with him the profits we could make from the models. I also discussed the benefits of having a model. He quickly became motivated after that.

“And then it didn’t take very long, once he had his mind set on the matter. He built our first software prototype, and we both tried to perfect after that. I was originally only looking for the limited: a computer that could function as a computer, look human, and still take on things to help humans, such as chores, cooking, and etcetera. I wanted something to makes lives easier. I wanted these computers to relieve stress of their owners. With the way things are, we are filled with unnecessary stresses and pressures. The models could make people feel better about their lives. We had that, originally. It was Peter that began to think of more. It started with wondering about making them anatomically correct, making them companion compatible. I wasn’t exactly a fan of the idea, but he made a convincing argument. Then it became more.”

“He wanted them to be human,” Erica pointed out. “He wanted to be responsible for creating something better than human out of technology, and to be the one to do it.”

Deaton nodded slowly before continuing. “He became interested in the fact that I had created technology that could physically feel, like a human. I created a technology with the ability to touch and be touched. He wanted to expand on that idea. He wanted to take that creation and add it to the Weretech models, and then he wanted to create emotions. Real emotions. I became worried. It wasn’t just about computers at that point, and the way Peter talked about it was…well, it was unsettling.”

“So you ended up cutting him from the company?” Isaac asked.

Again, Deaton nodded. “I cut him from the company and burned his blueprints. He had been designing an android at the time that not only was going to feel like a human, both physically and emotionally, but he was going to look more human than anything we had created yet. He was going to be virtually human. That android is who we know today as Stiles. I designed the way he looks. Peter wanted something that didn’t look absolutely perfect like our other models, and I designed him. To a point we both wanted “human.” I am taking a wild guess here in assuming Peter remembered most of my design, even after it was burned, and was not only able to recreate the blueprints but produce them as well. The only thing Peter was never able to cancel out was the glow underneath the androids’ skin. But everything else he hoped to achieve is right there in Stiles.”

“And that’s why Stiles is the way he is?” Derek asked, still working his way through half of what Deaton was telling him. “Because Peter wanted to make him as human as possible? Stiles really can actually feel then? How does that work? What did the guy use him for?” Or maybe Derek didn’t want to know.

“Can’t be sure. Peter always wanted a sort of, take relationship, rather than give and take. I think the idea of something loving him unconditionally even if he ignored it was appealing to him. But I can’t say for certain. We were partners, but we were never friends. I can assure you that Stiles can in fact feel though. He is able to choose and decide, he is sentient, he is decisive. I don’t even want to begin to think what Peter might be trying to achieve by making him that. But I do know the idea behind the emotions are triggers in the AI similar to how our emotions work based on hormones, neurotransmitters, the nervous system. And some of these were even placed inside the android I’m sure, Dopamine, Serotonin, Pheromones, or at least a replicated version of these. They are more than the basic reactions I have given all my models to comfort people. Stiles is self-aware.” Deaton sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest.

They all fell silent for a moment, unsure of what else to discuss, or how to respond to the new information. Should they try to get Stiles back? He wasn’t technically Derek’s property, and stealing wasn’t exactly going to work. Peter would know who stole him, and stealing a Weretech model, even a homemade one, would probably land them all in jail for a while. Derek sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes. What exactly were they supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave Stiles; he needed to fight this.

“I have a plan,” Deaton said at last, after what seemed like hours of silence. The four turned to face the doctor, eager to hear him continue. Though he took a moment to start back up. “If we can find a way to prove that Stiles is sentient, that Stiles can think and feel on his own then he would be able to make his own choices, correct? We need to find a way to get Derek to Stiles. I doubt Peter has any kind of registration papers on Stiles. If we can find a way to get him out of Peter’s grasp and destroy any evidence of Stiles existing, there won’t be anything to hold Peter to it.”

“You realize what you’re suggesting is extremely illegal, right?” Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow. When the others just looked at him blankly, he placed his hands up defensively. “Sorry, just making sure we’re all on the same page.”

“And what happens if he sends Lydia after Stiles again? Or comes after him himself?” Derek asked, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

“I may be able to provide you with some additional help, but I will need to see what I have or can come up with,” Deaton answered, bringing a hand up to rub at his chin thoughtfully.

“And why do you feel like helping me so much?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve done a lot already, and now you’re just going to provide Stiles and me with extra protection? Risk yourself for it?”

The others stared at Derek, surprised that he would ask Deaton this when the guy seemed so willing to help him, but at the same time, it was then that they realized what Deaton was doing too. Why was Deaton helping Derek? Why had he agreed to meet with Stiles before? Why was he helping them out now? Giving them all this information? What did he get out of it?

Deaton looked between them all and sighed softly, eyes falling on Derek at last. “It’s because I’ve seen the way he looks at you. If Peter really followed through with his plans, and I am certain he has, Stiles can feel. Stiles can feel. And that is something remarkable, and I want him to be happy. I don’t think he can do that if he’s not with you. I’m the one that is responsible. I created the models, I pulled Peter into this. Stiles is a marvelous creation, and I want him treated as such. I never imagined something that I made could be as advanced as him. I want some good to come of that. Such a creation shouldn’t be…caged.”

It definitely wasn’t the answer that Derek was expecting. He had been thinking Deaton wanted to use Stiles in some way, that he may have some ulterior motive. But no, Deaton was actually on his side. It was a really good feeling, extraordinary really. Yeah, Erica, Isaac and Boyd supported him, and he has his sisters, but that was about all Derek had. Those were all the people he cared about, or ever really cared about him. But now he had Deaton.

He had Stiles.

Once they solidified the plan, and figured out how exactly they would get Derek to meet Peter, get him into Peter’s house to find Stiles, they left the company building. Deaton would call Derek once he got in contact with Peter and figured out how to acquire a meeting with him. It would be difficult, and definitely risky, but they would do it.

Erica and Boyd headed home, and Isaac decided to head to Derek’s place, which Derek appreciated because he didn’t exactly want to be alone yet. They struck up just casual conversation on the way back to his apartment, and Isaac even ate dinner with Derek. Even after all that though, Derek didn’t want him to leave. He had become sort of attached to someone being around to talk his ear off, or just another presence in the apartment. It felt weird being alone now.

This was why it was a godsend when Isaac turned around while he was heading for the door. “You know, I feel like you are kind of not really as okay as you seem, so at risk of being yelled at, I am telling you that I am sleeping over. I also claim the shower first,” he said, his hands sinking deep into his pockets. And then he was just waiting, like he expected Derek to physically throw him out. But no, the idea was actually great, and Derek would never admit to him how great.

“I don’t care what you do,” Derek answered before he shrugged. He seriously had the best friends. He should make a shrine to them. He moved toward the stairs. “But if you are staying, go shower so I can get in there before I need to sleep.”

It took him a moment, but Isaac eventually shook himself out of his daze, realizing Derek was actually okay with it and bolted for the bathroom.

Derek wasn’t even bothered when Isaac said they were sharing a bed, (“I swear to God, Derek, if you spoon me I will spit on all your food, we are putting pillows in between us”). 

He slept alright, but he ended up waking ten minutes before his alarm clock went off. Sighing, he rolled out of bed and looked over at Isaac drooling on the pillow. Derek smirked before scrubbing his face with his hand. He would be able to go to work without worrying about Isaac. The other would probably steal some of Derek’s clothes, eat some of his food and text him later to tell him. It was alright, Derek didn’t mind. So he got ready for work and went off on his way.

The work day itself went slowly, and he tried to keep from thinking about Stiles during it, or wondering when Deaton would call. It didn’t work. Derek more often than not found himself looking at his phone, or absentmindedly tapping his pen on his desk and staring into space, just thinking. He actually…he really liked the android, didn’t he? Really liked him. The realization made Derek freeze. He was seriously falling for a model. He wanted Stiles safe, he wanted Stiles with him. He wanted Stiles to be with him. Derek sighed and cupped his forehead in his hand. That just made this harder.

When the day was finally over, Derek walked out of the building and started the walk home. Walking was just so much easier than trying to drive a car in the city. And he was nearly to his apartment, deep in thought, when he ran directly into the back of a man. He took a step back, a held out his hands, as if ready to catch the man if he fell, but the apology didn’t rise to his throat.

Slowly, the man turned, a smirk on his lips. He kind of looked like he could be a bad version of a Bond villain. “Ah, I’ve very sorry. Serves me right for standing in the middle of the sidewalk,” he said in a smooth drawl.

Derek already didn’t like the guy. “I wasn’t really watching where I was going,” he answered, moving to go around the guy, but still not sounding the least bit apologetic.  
“No, you weren’t. Too busy thinking about something you’ve lost?”

When Derek turned to look at him, he felt the sudden desire to wipe the smile off the guy’s face with his fist. Somehow, deep in the pit of his stomach, he knew just who this man was. “What do you want?” Derek half snapped.

“Nothing really, I was just enjoying the scenery. This is a beautiful location in the city, Derek, you’ve done well for yourself. Well, at least in a geographic sense.” Peter answered, his blue eyes taking a moment before locking on to Derek’s.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek asked him, ignoring the comments.

Peter brought his wrist up to look at his watch and shrugged a shoulder. “Should be here by now…ah,” he gestured behind Derek. “Right here.”

And Derek didn’t think he could turn around that fast again if he wanted to. He needed to see how Stiles was doing, but when he actually set eyes on the android he felt his stomach drop. Not because Stiles looked any different, no. He was still wearing the clothing Derek had gotten him. But it was because Stiles was here, and Derek knew Peter had planned this, and seeing Stiles just reminded him that the model was in the hands of his real owner. Stiles wasn’t coming home with Derek.

“Stiles,” he said quickly, taking a step toward the android.

But in response, Stiles looked at Derek, confusion clouding his features before he wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, but do I know you?” He asked, looking Derek up and down quickly.

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. Right? It was totally a joke, and Stiles was messing with him, and Derek’s breath completely leaving his body was totally an overly dramatic action. Because Stiles had to remember him. The model had only been away from him for a day. “Stiles, it’s…” But then he paused, because no, it wasn’t a joke. He knew exactly what had happened. And he suddenly felt like vomiting. “What did you do to him?” He asked, voice becoming threateningly low while he looked at Peter.

The older man moved cupped his hands behind his back and blinked more times than necessary. “Well, I’m not all that certain I know just what you mean. Model memory is very finicky, Derek, and extremely easy to lose. You never know when something can get erased.” And he smiled. He smiled and held his hand out and Stiles just fucking took it. Hesitantly, but he took it. Peter curled Stiles against his body, and wrapped an arm around him.

Derek felt like growling, grabbing Peter and tearing him down. But suddenly his focus was on Stiles. The model glanced back at Derek, and he looked regretful. He pulled away from the other man, seeming like he wanted to go to Derek, like there was something registering that he should go to him, that he knew him. Derek’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted Stiles to come to him. But then Peter started walking, pulling Stiles with him, and the android’s face went blank. Whatever urge had spurred him into moving died with Peter pulling him away.

“Derek, please come to visit me in a day or two. I’ll have Lydia e-mail you the address,” Peter told him simply, and then he was gone. Gone with Stiles.

Watching Stiles leave this time felt worse. Before he was taken kicking and fighting. This time he left on his own free will.

And he didn’t remember a thing.


	9. Game of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Peter has erased Stiles memories and invited Derek over, Derek is determined to make Stiles remember him and work out a plan for stealing him back. Peter is arrogant (go figure).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I went to NYC which is why this chapter took a while to come out too. Sorry, especially after leaving you with that cliff hanger last time. Oh boy. This chapter isn't much better in that front. Enjoy! And thanks for the amazing comments!

Two days later, Derek found himself standing in front of a mansion. He stared down at the address on his phone and then back up at the numbers next to the door. Yep, this was the place. This was the house of Peter Hale, man who currently had Stiles in possession. The address had been sent to him the previous day when Lydia had messaged him, just as Peter said. Added on was, “you are expected for dinner, arrive promptly at seven, do not be fashionably late, do not be courteously early.” And that was it. Derek wondered if he needed to wear a three piece suit.

The past day hadn’t been any easier than the first few without Stiles. And it wasn’t because he missed the help that Stiles gave around his apartment or at work, even if that was what he told everybody it was. His co-workers at least eventually gave up on asking about the android, finally reaching the conclusion that the original owner had found them. Most of the workers were just upset that Derek hadn’t sold Stiles off to them to begin with. He tried not to treat them harshly when he knew that was the reason (it didn’t work).

Erica ended up stayed with him the last two nights. Generally it just consisted of working or eating together, but Derek was grateful for another presence in the apartment. Now that he was used to Stiles, he imagined it would be difficult to slip back into old routines of not needing someone else. It made him feel a bit pathetic, really. After all, Stiles had only been with him for a short amount of time, so Derek shouldn’t feel this lack without him. But he did. Stiles had managed to tear down Derek’s built up wall of being fine with living alone (because it honestly was fine to live alone, even if it wasn’t easy for Derek), and he did it in barely two months. On an unspoken level, Erica understood that.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Erica asked just the previous night, both of them turned to face each other while lying in bed. Erica wasn’t as awkward about the possibility of touching while asleep as Isaac was. “He’s not just an android to you anymore, right?”

“No,” Derek admitted, knowing that it was absolutely impossible trying to lie to the blonde in front of him. He slipped a hand under his head to use as a pillow. “He’s not just an android, and I don’t think of him like that anymore.” But that was about as much as he would admit. Erica knew what he meant by it anyway. He didn’t have to tell her anything, which was the best part and the worst part of their friendship. She always knew. He didn’t tell her that he and Stiles had kissed, but she probably knew that too.

She had offered to go with him to see Peter too, but really he wanted to do it on his own. He wanted to see what the place was like, where Stiles was. What the best way to get him out would be. Then he could find a way to get another meeting. That’s when they would get Stiles out. He had called Deaton immediately after he saw Peter on the street, and the doctor thought this would be a good idea, even if he was apprehensive about how Derek might react if Peter was less than civil. After all, they had stopped being partners a few years ago, Deaton had no idea of what Peter might be like now. None of them had any idea of what they were dealing with in security or layout either. None of them had any idea of what they were dealing with in Peter.

And now he stood at the front door, eyes scanning for any possible escapes. There was a lot of land around the house, and it was extremely woodsy. Figures that Peter would be the type of guy to bury himself away in the woods, not that the thought wasn’t appealing to Derek too. There was a lot of privacy. Peter didn’t have any kind of fence up, but what if he had some kind of underground security system? That was the big worry about the escape plan. Getting into the woods and heading out was easy, getting passed security was another problem entirely. That was even if they could get out of the house.

Derek stepped up and knocked on the door, all the while holding his breath. It was seven on the dot, so Peter should be there. And sure enough, a moment later the door was cracking open. Lydia stood there, perfect curls and calculating eyes, just as before.

“Mr. Hale, hello, thank you for arriving promptly. Please come in and get comfortable,” she said sweetly.

After a moment’s hesitation, Derek walked into the house. The walls, the ceiling, the floor in the main room were all hard wood, and stained some dark red. It was beautiful, actually, polished to a shine. Various artwork and knickknacks around the house made it feel warm. It wasn’t anything like Derek imagined Peter. He imagined more stone, more dark, more sharp and cold edges, not the air smelling vaguely of cinnamon, vanilla, and some other spice.

Derek swallowed roughly when he identified that other spice in his mind as smelling like Stiles. Faint, barely there, but definitely Stiles. He took in a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive stance. There was no way he was going to let Peter get to him, (even if, if he was being honest with himself, Peter already had). He tried to ignore the tightening of his chest and chose to continue to scan the house.

Lydia led Derek into a honey colored room. Almost everything about it threw him off even more. He had been picturing Peter as a villain in a story. He was half ready for the man to turn into a dragon and cover Stiles in brambles and thorns. Instead the guy had comfortable looking couches, and elaborately designed pillows. He had so much art decorating the walls it was two steps away from a museum. Everything about the house was so different from Derek’s cold, bare apartment. Maybe he was supposed to be the villain instead. After all, he was thinking of kidnapping an android.

“You can wait for him in here,” Lydia said, immediately shaking Derek from his thoughts. She gestured to a couch and he nodded, but didn’t actually move to sit down.  
A part of him wondered if Lydia could answer his questions for him. Or would she be under some kind of instruction not to talk to him? It was worth a shot. Derek bit the inside of his cheek before asking, “is Peter a good owner?”

The model stared at him blankly. “Educationally and intellectually speaking, there are few that could rival my creator. He is able to give us the finest programs, operating systems, other software, firmware, whatever you can think of. And we are also equipped with the best hardware money has to offer. We were put together in labs that are kept to higher standards than the labs at Weretech Incorporated.” That was scary. 

“My creator has gone through extreme lengths to make sure that Stiles and I are exactly as he programmed us to be. Is that something that you would consider “good?” I admit I can only judge based on facts. I was not built with the same affectation and sensitivity programming as my counter prototype. He was designed for emotion, I was designed for logic. Admittedly, a logic that is superior to the models created by Weretech.”

“What do you mean by that?” Derek asked, thinking of how Allison seemed to know everything.

“Weretech models are only capable of accessing information off of the Internet, or what they are given. They are, essentially, desktop computers with human functions, which was exactly what they were designed to be. My programs have given me the ability to process on my own, akin to a human brain. Where you only use a limited amount of neural connections available to you, I can use mine to full capacity. We have not yet found a limit. My creator is working on putting my ‘thoughts’ into more coherent equations, ones easier for humans to understand. It is difficult for him, naturally.”

Derek raised his eyebrows and was silent. So, Peter created something smarter than himself and now he was struggling with figuring out what it was trying to say? What equations did he need answers to? But no, he wasn’t here for all of that. He was here for Stiles, and he needed to know if he could allow this unsettled feeling to go. After what Lydia just said, he didn’t have high hopes. “So, ultimately, you wouldn’t be able to judge if he were good to you and Stiles in a way that was…caring?”

“And that’s the only reason why you’re here, right? You want to see if it would be okay to leave Stiles with Peter.”

“Yeah,” Derek mumbled. Read like a book.

Just the corner of Lydia’s mouth tipped up. It was barely there, and then not at all, but Derek caught it. Maybe it was because she felt it would be a comforting response? Maybe logically she thought smiling would help? It didn’t. She wasn’t programmed with emotions though, right? So the smile couldn’’t be genuine. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Mr. Hale, I am not allowed to discuss the matter,” she said, flipping her hair over her should before heading toward the door. “The information I have given you had nothing to do with Stiles, and I was instructed not to discuss his files with you.” She waved the door open, Derek briefly thought Stiles would grin and make a Jedi joke, and she paused on the other side of the door to look back at him. “But I will say that I am glad you’re here.”

“I thought you weren’t programmed to feel?” Derek asked.

Lydia stuck her nose into the air and shrugged. “Then take it as you will.”

The door closed, and Derek didn’t exactly feel any more comforted by this.

He waited for a few minutes, just looking around the house and the paintings. A part of him felt like many of these paintings were illegal. Maybe he could have Peter arrested or something instead. It would be better than ending up in jail himself. He was debating looking up a painting that looked strangely like a Degas when he heard Peter walk through the door.

The man was dressed casually, which made Derek feel a bit more at ease, since he hadn’t known how to dress. But he was also a bit disturbed on how similar their wear was. Henleys, dark jeans, boots, if the colors were the same it would be the exact outfit. Derek wondered if he did that on purpose, but the look also worked so well with Peter that it very easily could have been an accident. At least Derek didn’t sport the same finely-trimmed goatee that just rubbed Derek the wrong way. Scooby-Doo villain style.  
“Derek,” he smiled, and held his arms out to him like they were old friends. It was a caring gesture that Derek didn’t care for.

Instead of mirroring it, Derek tightened the arms crossed over his chest, almost emphasizing that that’s where they were staying, and Peter smirked in understanding. They weren’t about to play friendly games with each other, fine, Peter got that. For a moment, they simply stared at each other before Peter was gesturing toward the door.  
“Please, come join me for dinner. I promise it’s not poisoned.” And the guy chuckled, obviously thinking he was comical.

Derek didn’t even bother telling Peter that was only something people said when their food was poisoned. But Derek didn’t doubt that Peter knew, which was precisely why he said it. The man really was trying to get to his head. He could tell by the way Peter glanced over his shoulder for a reaction. There was no way Peter would willingly harm him like this, not in a way that could be easily traced, not when Peter knew he had told others he was here. Even if Derek was sure Peter could dispose of his body and no one would ever find it. So he wasn’t about to let his guard down, but there was no way he was about to back down and submit either.

He made his way to the dining room after Peter. It was large and useless, and had a gaudy chandelier in the middle; it wasn’t fit for just two people. But the food was already placed out, which meant they wouldn’t be moving somewhere else to eat. Maybe all of this was a show for Derek to see how much money the guy had. What a joke.

Once Peter went to sit, Derek pulled out his chair, purposefully scraping it along the wooden floor loudly. It caused a momentary glare from Peter, a break in the relaxed mask, and Derek knew he was being childish but he couldn’t help himself. He sat down gracefully afterward. After they were situated and organized, Derek glanced over the food and then up at Peter. The man delicately steepled his fingers, the tips of his forefingers pressed to his lips. It would look almost like a kind of prayer if he didn’t have his eyes trained on Derek across the table. Instead he looked like a wolf planning his next kill. Derek met his gaze with the most bored expression he could muster, wanting to appear unfazed.

“Stiles will be down later,” Peter clarified, slowly bringing his hands to rest on the table, and in response Derek continued to look disinterested, raising an eyebrow. “I have been running various diagnostics on him to make sure he is running properly after the firewall, the injury, the loss of memory. And I certainly know you weren’t doing much in the way of care for him. I’m just glad he didn’t get a virus. There are some terrible things that can get into models’ heads.” He rolled his eyes, eyelids fluttering a bit with condescension, and Derek wanted to punch him.

“So were you just watching the entire time he was with me? Got a thing for voyeurism?” Derek frowned.

Peter smirk and licked his bottom lip pointedly, it made a shudder run up Derek’s spine. “A good portion of the time, yes, I was able to keep an eye on you.” The man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, far too relaxed. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t your, really quite pathetic, life that was I was keeping an eye on. It was actually a mishap that turned into a great opportunity, Stiles’ finding you.”

Though he felt the rest of his body tense slightly, Derek kept his face as stoic as possible. No emotions, Nothing to read off of him. Maybe Peter would elaborate then. And of course he did. Guy seemed the type to love the sound of his own voice.

“When he left, I had prepared to search for him and drag him back. I never really enjoyed having people leave while angry with me.” Somehow Derek couldn’t believe that. “Really, it was a fault in his programming anyway, and I needed to fix it. But then he found you, and I thought, why not? It would be a bit of self-indulgence in seeing how my little creation did with someone other than me. And if he killed you, oh well, the firewall was implemented to keep people from discovering who made him if he killed someone. Clearly the firewall worked without a hitch, it would have worked wonderfully if he had. And it would really have been no great loss to the rest of the world if he’d killed you. Who would miss the faceless accountant from some company with little communication with family and barely any friends? Really, Derek, would you miss you? From what I observed you…well, your saddening qualities aren’t really the emphasis here. In the end, you were an experiment, and a rather good one.”

“Then why did you invite me here?” Derek asked, trying to loosen his jaw from how tightly clenched it had been. How did this guy even have the nerve to say all of that to him? He didn’t know Derek from anything other than what he watched or saw. But why did Peter want to see him then? “Why invite me if your experiment is done?” And if Derek was so useless.

“Because you’re not through with helping me, yet,” Peter smirked before standing, his hand rising to grip his chin in a pensive pose. Derek wanted to roll his eyes. “In my experiment with you, I noticed behaviors coming from the model that I hadn’t seen.” There was a gleam in Peter’s eye and Derek couldn’t place it, but he didn’t like it. “I was wondering if that was injury specific or just…”

Him specific. Peter wanted to know if Stiles was acting the way he did only because he was Derek, and Stiles apparently liked him more than any other human he had seen, just like he had told Marin.

“Why does that matter?” Derek asked, narrowing his eyes a bit.

Smirking, Peter looked at him, and copied Derek’s look. “Because there is apparently a flaw in the programming that I need to snuff out, if that’s the case. I’m sure you understand.”

Derek could practically see the bolts and cracks of tension between the two of them in that moment. The entire time Derek was afraid of Peter getting under his skin, but he didn’t know that he had been under Peter’s for far longer. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

The staring contest was broken when the door slid open and Stiles stepped inside. His eyes scanned Peter and then moved to Derek. He wanted the android to have some spark of recognition, give the normal bright smile he tended to grow whenever he saw Derek. But it didn’t happen.

There was nothing.

“You wanted me to come down. So I’m here, what is it?” the model asked, glancing back at Peter, and not looking all too thrilled. It was a new attitude on Stiles.

“My guest was interested in seeing you,” Peter answered, gesturing broadly to Derek.

And then Stiles looked at him again, more thoroughly, and his entire demeanor seemed to change. He loosened. His glow got a bit brighter. But his face didn’t change. “Right, Derek Hale. We were at your apartment the other night.”

The nonchalance hurt. Derek took in a breath, and a part of him feared he let his face twist just slightly. After a moment, he regained the look he had been aiming for all night. 

“Yeah, you were,” was about all he managed to get out, however. This shouldn’t bother him as much as it seemed to. Stiles didn’t have his memories, it wasn’t like he was choosing Peter.

“Why would you be interested in seeing me?” Stiles asked, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“He thinks—” Peter started, but Stiles cut him off by holding his hand up. The gesture surprised Derek. Stiles had never been commanding with him. And Peter didn’t exactly seem the type to take orders, which was an assumption confirmed when the man’s lip curled. The balance was off somewhere.

“You reminded me of someone,” Derek answered, secure enough in the comment. It was true, after all. The model reminded him of Stiles. His Stiles.

Stiles paused, blinked a few times, stared wide-eyed. “I remind you of a person?”

“Someone,” Derek clarified. “It’s just nice to relive it.” Though he wasn’t all that sure why Stiles cared about his reminding Derek of a person.

The room was quiet then, and the two of them stared at each other, with Peter looking between them, evaluating them. It was then that Derek realized what the flaw in Stiles’ programming was. If Peter was trying to create something to love him unconditionally, it failed. The model’s programming really was flawed. Stiles wasn’t treating Peter the way he had treated Derek. And Peter was trying to find out what the connection between Stiles and Derek came from. Stilles’ emotions and opinions worked better than Peter had meant them to when programmed. He had too much of his own choice.

Derek observed the way Stiles reacted to Peter as the dinner continued. The android pulled away from him more often than not, ignored orders, even rolled his eyes at certain things. But Derek he listened to, or helped, or even offered to take him home when he left. And the more of these little interactions that took place, the more Peter seemed as if he was trying to put Derek under a microscope, figure out how he worked, figured out how he was coded. It was all the more reason for Derek to keep up this dance with Peter he had going. The two of them continued to move around each other in passive aggressive planned out moves. Stiles was the point they were dancing around.

Still, it seemed like Stiles was holding back. A few times during the night, he opened his mouth to say something, but ended up closing it and looking at Derek. Peter seemed to make note of this too, and every time he did, he would run his tongue along his top row of teeth and narrow his eyes. He needed to scrutinize every single moment. Each time Peter got that look on his face, Derek made sure to flash a smile at Stiles. It would make the android blush and turn to remove something from the table. Peter would subtly threaten from across the table, and Derek remained unflinching.

But then the dinner was over, and Derek had no reason to stay. The food had been excellent (and not poisoned), and the company had been exceedingly awkward. Derek had gotten a look at what he wanted to, for the most part, and now wanted to leave. He wanted to run away from the sight of someone ordering Stiles around every few seconds. No wonder Stiles was so ready to help out around the apartment, he was used to it. 

“I should probably head out then,” Derek finally mentioned, pointing his thumb back toward the door. Stiles took a half step toward him, but stopped. Peter caught the action and stood, slowly, placing his hands delicately on the table on more.

“Lydia will be able to see you toward the door. Thank you for coming to dinner, Mr. Hale. You have been very informative,” the man said. Then he walked toward Stiles, standing next to him, blocking him from moving.

“Right,” Derek answered, looking between model and creator. Stiles stood straight, raised his chin defiantly, dropped his shoulders, but he looked uncomfortable. And Derek wanted to change that. “Can I stop by again?” Even though it wasn’t a question. He was going to stop by again.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Peter gave him a look and he closed it. “That would be unwise, Mr. Hale, but thank you for the interest. I would suggest you come visit my labs next time, but it is something that will have to wait a very long time, unfortunately.”

And there wasn’t room to argue. Derek stared Peter down, but didn’t say anything. Whether he wanted Derek to visit or not, he would. The human turned to see Lydia standing in the same door he came through. And now that someone was here to escort him out, how could he leave Stiles? He wanted to run from the sight, sure, but he couldn’t just leave him. Except, he didn’t have a choice. She walked him through the door, away from Stiles, away from Peter, and through the house. When they reached the front door, she waved her hand to slide it open and turned to give him a sweet smile. Derek didn’t want it.

“Have a good night, Mr. Hale,” she told him. Then she glanced back from where they came and grabbed his wrist, turned to face him. “Is the code to your apartment still the same?”

“Why does that matter?” He asked, glancing down at the hand around his wrist. She wasn’t as warm as Stiles.

“It’s a helpful piece of information.”

And then she let him go. The door closed and he was left outside of the Hale Mansion. Derek drew in a deep breath before heading for his car. He felt reluctant to go, if only because he felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something bad was going to happen, and made the previous desire to leave dissipate completely. But what was the feeling?

Maybe it was just because of what Lydia had said. Maybe he should change the code. Maybe Peter was planning on coming in and zapping his DNA in his sleep. Maybe the guy needed some part of Derek to make Stiles work the way he wanted him to. His mind began racing with possibilities, and his head swirled the entire way home.

~~~

As Derek left, Stiles remained perfectly still next to Peter, who was curiously looking the android up and down. He had every urge to run after the male leaving, and he wasn’t sure why. Stiles turned to look at Peter before slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Not necessarily a talkative guy, but with looks like his, who really needs loquaciousness, am I right?” Stiles grinned.

“You made me look like a fool,” Peter responded, turning sharply to place his hands back on the table.

“Don’t necessarily need me to do that,” Stiles mumbled. He realized the mistake a moment later when Peter swept his hand across the table, knocking plates of leftover food and glasses of wine and water to the floor. The android barely flinched, but he did scan the area for anything that had the possibility of being turned into a weapon. By his calculations, forty items in the room, including the drapes on the window and the chandelier, could be turned into weapons that could damage his systems.

“I created you,” Peter hissed at him, turning to face the android, strands of his perfectly oiled hair falling out of place. “You are mine. There should be no flaws to your programs and yet it’s him. Him.” He pointed at the door Derek had just left out of, but Stiles didn’t bother to look.

“I don’t even know him,” Stiles half growled back. “You are the only human I have memories of. You’ve never let me meet another human.” And it was true. He didn’t know the man that was there that night. Even if a part of him desperately wanted to. Some trigger in his system, some spark in his circuit work, some ping in his firmware, and tick in his hardware made him want to know Derek. He felt like he knew the man somehow. It made his lips warm.

Peter narrowed his eyes again, scanned Stiles over. The android looked away, wanting to block out the feeling of being x-rayed. “Then tell me what it is.”

“I’m going to go with, his whole grumpy persona and cheekbones that could cut glass that made my processing cores shudder. Pretty sure that’s the only explanation you need,” Stiles answered with a smirk, his eyes making their way back to Peter. His creator clearly wasn’t pleased with the explanation. “Oh, and his ass. Trust me, no synthetic thing could get that perfect. You programmed me to be able to judge aesthetics and man, you don’t get much more aesthetically pleasing than he was in those jeans.”

Peter’s lip curled, but Stiles knew it wasn’t because of jealousy. None of this was jealousy. Peter didn’t care that Stiles found someone more pleasing to look at. The problem was that it took away Peter’s power. And Stiles knowing that took it away even more. As far as Stiles was concerned, he didn’t have a flaw in his programming. Programming wasn’t the difficult part. The flaw was Peter. Humans were difficult. The man could recode Stiles entirely, and he had several times before Derek, but he was just never going to get Stiles to care about a personality like his.

It was like Peter came to the realization the moment Stiles thought of it. His eyes widened for a brief moment before he sneered, shaking his head. All his plans were shot. Stiles knew it, Peter knew it. And it was Stiles who he could take it out on, whether he would or not. Stiles was too near the monster’s claws.

The android stood his ground, jaw tensing. And the moment Peter took a step toward him, Stiles felt his self-defense programs kick in. These weren’t, however, Peter’s doing. Whether the human was aware of them or not, Stiles wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t going to chance them being shut down, he didn’t want to chance Peter coming more to realization. His eyes began to glow brightly, and from there, silver shot through his body.

“Don’t touch me,” he warned.

But of course he didn’t listen. And when Peter grabbed his wrist, Stiles initiated the program.

~~~

When Derek got home, he slumped onto his couch and placed his head in his hands. This was an absolute disaster. He hadn’t made another plan to see Peter. And Stiles still didn’t remember him. Everything about that night had diverted from the plan. He was about to just admit defeat and sleep on the couch when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and squinted at the name, curious as to why Erica would be texting him. Still, he flipped his phone open and glanced at the message.

What did you do? Erica

Confused, but curious, Derek answered back “What do you mean?” and waited patiently for his phone to buzz again. The text that she sent back in response to that wasn’t exactly all that helpful either.

Turn on the news. Erica

Derek narrowed his eyes before sighing and flipping on his TV. It was a fairly old fashion plasma, but he didn’t need whatever new things they were coming out with. It didn’t at all take away from what was on the screen. Fire at the Hale Mansion. Owner Peter Hale could not be found. No bodies were discovered inside the house. Firefighters were still working to put the fire out. All footage of security films had been erased. Police were debating calling it a suicide if a body was to be found. Arson and foul play had not been ruled out.

Derek’s heart raced as he stared at the flames attempting to lick the trees around the house. He had just been there. Stiles had just been there.

If there were no bodies, what happened to Stiles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek can't get away from fire no matter what. (Also, character death is not a thing so don't worry too much.)


	10. Digital Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek was just at the Hale Mansion, and somehow between the time of leaving and getting home, it burst into flames. So where is Stiles? And will Derek ever see him again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so I took way too long on this chapter, sorry guys! We're getting to the end. One major chapter left, and then the Epilogue. Thank you so much for sticking with me and reading! You all warm my heart. I may have a sequel to this eventually, because I already have an idea for it, but I am still deciding. Maybe I will have a better idea when I have finally ended this one. Thanks again! You all rock!

Flames. That was all Derek saw when he reached the mansion once again. The last half hour had been a blur. Somewhere between chucking the remote control at the tv to getting in his car to calling Erica and asking her to meet him at the address. Then he drove. He drove as quickly as possible back to the mansion he had only just been at. To the mansion where he had just been having a power struggle with Peter, and had to watch Stiles wait on them. To the mansion he had been planning to break into a few days later, with or without aid.  
  
When he got there, there were rushes of firefighters with hoses, or firefighters pulling things from the house that were salvageable. Or firefighters going in to look for bodies. Except there were no androids. There was also an unnerving lack of Peter Hale, alive or not. That was concerning. What if Peter had planned this all out? Flashed Stiles in front of his face and then fled, making it look like an accident?  
  
“At this point do you think we should just let it burn but keep it contained? Not much left to save,” he heard a fireman say. And Derek’s heart raced.  
  
“Did you find any models?” He asked suddenly, needing to know and abandoning the knowledge that he shouldn’t even be there.  
  
The fireman cast a suspicious eye on Derek, studying him for a moment while also possibly wondering if he was insane. “No man, no androids. Who are you? A friend of Mr. Hale? Either way, you need to get back. This is a possible crime scene.”  
  
“I’m a relative,” Derek answered, even if he didn’t care about that. They weren’t even friends. “And I need to know about any models.” Shouldn’t he need to know about Peter’s safety if he was a relative?  
  
The man didn’t look any less suspicious of Derek, but he still stressed out “no, we didn’t find any.” Then he turned away, obviously done with answering questions when he had a job to do.  
  
Derek growled, and before any officer could stop him, he rushed toward the house, flames and all with no plan of getting in, or getting out. He felt the heat before anything else, feet from the house, and it seared him but he kept going. He was determined to go in and find Stiles himself if the firefighters wouldn’t. And he almost made it to the door before he felt sharp hands on his shoulders and biceps, jerking him back so hard he toppled over. Air left in lungs the next moment, making him struggle to catch it when he realized he was on ash covered ground.  
  
“Buddy, you can’t go in there!” Someone yelled, the person who Derek assumed grabbed him. He tried to fight to get up, but a heavy boot landed on his chest. It was useless with him still struggling for breath. He wasn’t going to be able to get to Stiles. “I said you can’t go in! Now get back or we’ll detain you for—“  
  
“Derek!” He heard, and jerked his head back to see Erica racing toward him. He caught his breath painfully before shoving the foot off of him and slowly getting up from the ground. She paused when she saw the fireman glare at her, obviously wondering if she was about to head into the house too. She placed her hands up defensively and waited until Derek walked to her, which he did reluctantly, shooting a look back at the fireman.  
  
“This wasn’t me, Erica. I don’t know what happened, but they can’t find Stiles.” He could feel his heart in his throat, his hands curled into fists to keep from shaking so much. The look on Erica’s face told him that she understood, but it also told him something he already knew. There was nothing they could do about it at the moment. Racing into the house while it was burning was stupid, and he wouldn’t get very far anyway.  
  
Slowly, the thought sank in, and Derek tried to grab a hold of himself. Erica waited patiently for him to do so, crossing her arms over her stomach slowly.  
  
After standing and staring at the flames for what felt like ages, Erica finally convinced Derek to let her take him home. She would get Boyd and Isaac to pick up his car, but Derek was in no position to drive at the moment, or be alone.  
  
Although he didn’t agree, he didn’t stop her from steering him in whatever direction she wanted. He slid into the passenger side, head in a daze. Erica didn’t talk to him on the way back, he was sure she didn’t know what to say, and even if she did she didn’t want to say anything wrong. He appreciated it, but at the same time he wanted anything to distract him from a racing thoughts of “Stiles, Stiles, Stiles.”  
  
Stiles, who was officially gone.  
  
If he hadn’t burned in the fire, then Peter had taken him somewhere. Stiles was officially out of Derek’s life.  
  
Stiles was dead.  
  
Not wanting it to, that thought began to sink in as well, and Derek took a shaky breath. No Stiles. No chance of a rescue mission at this point. Why did all of his relationships have to turn so sour? Why did they have such unhappy endings? Slumping against the window, he closed his eyes and tried not to think for the rest of the trip to his apartment. It didn’t work.  
  
“You don’t have to come up. Go home to Boyd,” Derek told her while sliding out of the car. “Thanks for the ride.”  
  
”You have got to be kidding me,” Erica sighed before getting out as well, slamming the door hard behind her. “No way, buddy. There is no way I am leaving you while you’re about to spiral out of control. It took me months to get you out of the last super brood stage, I am not about to do it again. Now, come on. I will help you shower and change if I need to.”  
  
“I’m fi—“ he started. But Erica clamped a hand over his mouth and gave him a look. Only Erica. He was just going to have to accept it and move on.  
  
They made their way upstairs and into his apartment. Derek immediately went to shower to get the smell of smoke off, and Erica promised to make him something to eat. While appreciative, he wasn’t very hungry.  
  
After fifteen minutes of standing under burning water in a daze, Derek attempted to finish his shower. Mostly he honed in on the feel of water sliding down his skin, the sound of it hitting the wall and going down the drain. He was so focused on these things that when Erica knocked on the door, he jumped and slammed a hand against the wall to steady himself.  
  
“What?” He asked, sharper than he meant to.  
  
“Derek, you need to get out here,” she said, sounding rushed.  
  
What now? What possibly could have happened now? Maybe she started a fire in the kitchen. He wouldn’t be surprised.  
  
Still, he turned the water off and got out, ran a towel over his skin to dry off and wrapped it around his hips. He pointedly took his time getting dressed in the baggiest, comfiest clothes he could find before finally walking downstairs. He didn’t smell smoke at least.  
  
“What, Erica? What now?”  
  
But Erica didn’t speak. She simply pointed. And Derek’s eyes followed the line, turning to look. The first thing he noticed was bright, brilliant red curls, primped to perfection resting against his couch. Lydia was sitting on his couch. Why was Lydia sitting on his couch?  
  
“Lydia?” He asked, heart picking up pace again. Was Stiles with her? He wasn’t there. Did they make it out? Well, obviously Lydia did.  
  
“Derek Hale,” she said sharply, standing and facing him. Parts of her clothes were singed, but for the most part she looked okay. She didn’t look physically damaged. “I’ve come to ask you a couple of questions. I would like to let you know that I can monitor your heart rate from here and am incredibly skilled at reading micro-expressions. If your words and your tells mismatch, I will know, so do not lie.”  
  
And, while a terrifying threat, Derek didn’t plan on it, because he had no doubts that Lydia had lasers behind her eyes like some terrible sci-fy creation. Except he had no idea what she was talking about either. So Derek just nodded. “Okay, no lying.” Problem was his heart was already racing.  
  
“Would you keep Stiles safe if he came back to you?” And his heart skipped a beat at the words. Already having an irregular heartbeat: not a good sign. Still though, was this hope Stiles was alive?  
  
“Yes,” he answered, willing his pulse to control itself.  
  
“Would you consider yourself a good owner?”  
  
No. He hadn’t been a good owner. But… “I will be.”  
  
“Yes or no answers.” She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Would you consider Stiles a thing you owned, though you would be considered his owner?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Would he be your equal?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Is he just an android to you? Could you have another just the same?”  
  
“No, to both.”  
  
“Would you care for him?”  
  
“Yes,” he answered, trying not to let the irritation at the questions sink in. This was stupid. Get to the point already.  
  
“Do you love him?”  
  
He paused, because that was a bit invasive. And a bit much. Derek felt a lot, but was it really love? Derek didn’t love. He never had. He had thought once, but no. And Stiles had only been with him a few months, so was it love? Maybe not. But could he love the android?  
  
Erica glanced at him, because she knew, but she didn’t press.  
  
“Yes,” he answered.  
  
Lydia paused then, looking him up and down. “You realize that he is a new creation. He won’t have the rights of a person. He won’t always act like a person. He won’t eat. He won’t technically sleep. He doesn’t dream like a human. He won’t get old like a human. He won’t be able to go anywhere without a charger, and things decidedly very human might confuse him. He won’t, in all intents and purposes, be ‘real.’”  
  
“Yes, I realize that,” Derek answered, breathing loudly through his nose. He had already thought of this. All of this.  
  
“Do you change any of your answers?” She asked, crossing her arms delicately over her chest and shifting the weight in her hips.  
  
“No,” he stressed out, jaw tensing. “No, I don’t change them, okay? Where is Stiles?” It was all Derek wanted, to see Stiles and make sure he was okay. Why would Lydia ask him all of that unless Stiles was okay? Why would she ask him all that if he was still with Peter? He needed to make sure Stiles was okay.  
  
“His memories aren’t restored, are you sure you want to see him? He won’t remember you from before.”  
  
“Yes!” He snapped, getting the sudden urge to strangle a machine.  
  
Lydia simply rolled her eyes before they flashed pink. A moment later, there was a knock on the door.  
  
Neither Erica nor Derek moved from their spots. Mostly Derek didn’t want to get his hopes up and have this all be a joke orchestrated by Peter. He and Erica stared at each other for a moment before they looked at Lydia. The model rolled her eyes, huffed, and walked to the door.  
  
“Have to do everything,” she mumbled while opening the door.  
  
Standing there, clothing singed, parts of his skin burned, was Stiles. Derek took in a deep breath. He wanted to go to him. He wanted to walk over and pull him close, kiss him senseless. He wanted to make sure Stiles was okay and was never leaving again. That was, until he remembered Stiles didn’t know who he was, not really.  
  
“Oh, it’s you,” Stiles said, suspicion dripping from his face into a more comfortable look. He still seemed fairly tense though. “Why did you want to come here, Lydia?” The android turned to look at his counterpart and tilted his head, his body making random twitches every now and then. Derek ignored the ache in his heart at the words. They could make new memories, right?  
  
Still, it hurt that Stiles wouldn’t remember how they met, wouldn’t remember the moments Derek slowly fell for. Wouldn’t remember their first kiss, or the way they laid together while Stiles read to him.  
  
“Because here is safe,” Lydia answered. “But we can’t stay yet.” Then she turned to Derek and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “We need to go see Deaton. I would like you to take us, he trusts you more than he would me. Stiles’ skin needs repaired, and I need to check to make sure he is functioning correctly. The laboratories I had access to are now currently under watch by police.”  
  
“How did you get out?” Erica asked, looking between the both of them, a question Derek had on his mind and would have voiced if he could.  
  
“Now really isn’t the time,” Lydia answered. Then she was walking out of the door, her hair moving like a wave behind her back. She gripped Stiles’ hand and pulled him out after her. On instinct, Derek followed, which meant Erica followed after him too.  
  
“Not exactly a big decorator, are you?” Stiles asked Derek, grinning back at him over his shoulder while they walked. Derek felt his stomach drop, reminded of the first day with Stiles in his apartment. “Never would have guessed, you seem so expressive!” The android then gestured to Derek’s frown and laughed to himself. “Geez, you are like, the grumpiest guy ever, aren’t you? I bet you don’t ever smile, you just sit there and brood and look intense.” When Derek furrowed his brow at him, Stiles held up his free hand defensively and turned back around. “You know, in a good way. A good looking way. Pensive is the new charming, right?”  
  
Derek’s frown grew slightly. Stiles acted a bit differently, not that Derek didn’t like it. Maybe it was because he had all his memories back. It was just something he would have to adjust to.  
  
The four made their way into his car, and then to Weretech Inc. headquarters. Derek tried hard not to keep looking in his rearview mirror at Stiles. He didn’t look at anything in the same way he used to, like everything human made was a miracle. He had to be completed, have everything back but his memories of Derek. Those weren’t engrained enough in him to need to form new memories. Not like when he had first learned about the human world with Peter. If Peter even took him out of the house.  
  
Stiles looked up just in time to see Derek staring at him, and the human flinched before forcing his eyes onto the road. He finally made himself stop looking back, but more than once he felt familiar eyes on him after that. It warmed part of him to know that Stiles was interested enough to keep looking at him. Maybe getting his Stiles back wouldn’t be that hard after all.  
  
He pulled into a spot in front of the building, ignoring whether it was actually legal to park or not and got out. The others followed. The gates opened the moment Derek walked up to them, and the four of them went through the process of getting in and taking off their shoes. Would Scott come to greet them? Would he want to see Stiles? Stiles probably wouldn’t remember him. Though, glancing back at the android, he seemed to be struggling with some sort of recognition.  
  
“Have I been here before?” Stiles mumbled, slipping his hands into burned pockets. Lydia shrugged in response.  
  
“Mr. Hale, you were unexpected,” a voice greeted them, but it didn’t belong to Scott. Still, Derek knew it.  
  
He turned to face an Allison model and took in a breath. “I know, but there was a bit of an accident.” He motioned to Stiles before tipping his chin toward the door he knew would lead to the lab. “Is Deaton or Morrell available at all?”  
  
“It’s your lucky day,” the Allison model smiled too perfectly and turned to lead them to the elevators. Apparently she missed the fact that Stiles was covered in burn marks. There were places Derek could see the glowing silver wiring that made him up. He didn’t seem bothered by it though. Maybe he had locked off his pain sensors.  
  
Right before they left the lobby, Derek glanced at Lydia too, and noticed she seemed absolutely fixated on the Allison model. Maybe she had just never seen a model beside Stiles? No, couldn’t be it. Maybe she was planning murder? Still, not the time to worry. But Derek would warn Erica not to bring Allison around.  
  
“Where’s Scott?” He asked, glancing at Allison.  
  
“He is charging. He was busy helping Doctor Deaton research all day,” she answered with an apologetic tone.  
  
They made their way down, and Deaton greeted them, looking slightly more disheveled than normal. But when he got one look at Stiles, his eyes widened slightly and he waved a hand on. “Come with me,” he ushered, leading them toward his office.  
  
Derek sighed in relief. He didn’t want to have to leave Stiles again, and it appeared he didn’t have to. He followed quickly after Deaton and Stiles. But when they actually got into the office, Deaton led him to a pod and immediately put Stiles inside, then closed it up. The android seemed wary at first, just because he supposedly didn’t know Deaton, but Lydia assured him. Derek glanced at her. Why, if she was so comfortable with Deaton, did she stay with Peter so long?  
  
Still, Derek went and stood next to the pod, waiting patiently while Stiles closed his eyes, and the inside of the metal began to glow so brightly Derek couldn’t watch.  
  
“His skin will be repaired, but we will have to go through more extensive measures to check his programs. And after the incident with Scott, I would be worried about using any of my own models again,” Deaton told him, apprehension seeping through his voice and showing as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. At least he seemed genuinely apologetic.  
  
“I can check him, don’t worry,” Lydia assured, her arms crossed, hands cupping her small elbows. And yet Derek couldn’t help but feel he needed to be on his toes around her. “I just need a connector cable to do it.”  
  
“Then you’re in the right place,” Deaton told her with a bit of a smile. Then after a beat, he added “I didn’t design your looks.”  
  
“I am a product of Peter’s own imagination. Apparently he is into redheads.” She pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder. Derek took in the very clear use of the present tense around Peter’s name.  
  
“It’s a pleasure, nonetheless” Deaton told her, extending a hand. Lydia took it, and shook it, but she looked confused about it, maybe she wasn’t sure why it would be a pleasure meeting her.  
  
Erica glanced between Lydia and the Allison model a few times before shaking her head. She left shortly after that, though didn’t really tell Derek why. But she promised to get a cab and head over to his place a little later. She would still probably get there before him, but he didn’t care.  
  
Instead, he waited. He waited outside of the glowing metal tomb that held Stiles with bated breath and a nervously bouncing leg. Lydia paced occasionally, but seemed calm despite that. For Derek, it felt like waiting in a hospital. Slow, nerve-wracking, and with something hanging in the air that felt like sickness.  
  
Deaton didn’t seem worried in the least. In fact, he got up about a half hour into the repair to get up and finish some work elsewhere. He seemed to know how long it would take though, because two hours later he was strolling back in with a cup of coffee for Derek. Ten minutes later the pod stopped glowing.  
  
It cracked open, and Stiles slowly stepped out, yawning (like that was normal for a machine) and wiping his eye with the back of his hand. “That was oddly soothing, you know, despite the crammed, tight, suffocating feeling of the whole thing.” He smirked and glanced at Derek before stretching his arms out. “So, how do I look?”  
  
“Great,” Derek answered, too quickly. He cleared his throat at the furrowed brow Stiles’ got (though his eyes maybe lit up slightly too, and not in the glowing way) and nodded. “You look good. Skin completely back to normal.”  
  
“You will need new clothes though,” Deaton said, rubbing lightly under his chin with his thumb. “I’ll have Scott bring you some down. Lydia? Are you going to check his system now?” He asked, turning to the female model and holding out a cord.  
  
Lydia smiled sweetly at him before gently taking the cord and moving toward Stiles. “You have more damage than I do. Let’s hope it’s not inside,” Lydia told him, glancing down at the cord like she was checking to make sure Deaton grabbed the correct one.  
  
Derek shifted between feet impatiently before crossing his arms and staring at a fixed place on the floor. His eyes shifted to watch as Lydia flipped back the tip on her forefinger, revealing another port. She plugged the cable in, walked to Stiles, and did the exact same thing to him. It was weird watching them flip fingers in half.  
  
“You might want to plug us both into a charger,” she advised, before they suddenly both froze in their place. After another moment, their eyes began glowing. Slowly, their skin followed, Stiles’ silver next to Lydia’s hot pink.  
  
At first, Derek was certain Lydia would shut down and freak out like Scott had, but she didn’t shake or flinch. She remained perfectly still, focused. Deaton plugged them in as Lydia suggested, and after that they simply stood like that for what seemed like forever. Derek hoped to wait for them to finish, but he wasn’t sure whether it would take an hour or a day. It seemed like it was going to be closer to a day than an hour, at least to Derek if felt that way. He moved to sit in a chair, head in his hands, while Deaton chose to lean calmly against his desk, arms crossed.  
  
Suddenly, Stiles collapsed, and while Lydia seemed unconcerned, Derek jumped up and rushed to catch him. With the combination of being off balance, as well as Stiles being so heavy, they both ended up falling, Derek hitting the ground first and Stiles landing on top of him. Stiles didn’t move.  
  
“What happened?” Derek asked, looking up at Lydia and trying not to panic.  
  
“I shut him down so that he can finish installing what he needs to,” she said, pulling the cord from Stiles’ finger and then removing it from her own. “Keep him hooked up to a charging platform and wait.”  
  
Of course, waiting. More waiting. Derek sighed and did his best to pull himself up and try to keep Stiles from toppling over to the ground. It was comforting to have the warm scent so close again, even if it felt off. Derek’s thoughts raced with all the memories he had of the android that Stiles didn’t have in return.  
  
Still, he tucked Stiles close and shifted them. “Think he could stay off the charger long enough to get him back to my apartment?”  
  
Lydia placed a finger against her cheek thoughtfully and pursed her lips for a moment. “He should have enough battery for that. Just drive a few miles over the speed limit and allow me to carry him. You’re slow.”  
  
As much offense as Derek wanted to take to that, he didn’t. He simply nodded and shifted Stiles into Lydia’s arms. She began to adjust him in her grip and mess with the charging cord while Derek turned to Deaton. The doctor smiled and placed a warm hand on Derek’s shoulder.  
  
“Take care. I hope he wakes up soon and you two can discuss what you need to. I’ll tell Scott to head over tomorrow. If what you’re saying is true, Peter’s body wasn’t found, you might need a bit of extra protection,” Deaton told him. “Oh, and the clothes will be by the door for you.”  
  
Derek nodded and held his hand out to shake, Deaton accepted. “I don’t know how I can-“  
  
Quickly, Deaton held the same hand he shook with up to silence Derek. “Don’t. You don’t need to do anything. If I didn’t want to help, you would know. Now get him home, and take care of Stiles, Derek. And take care of yourself.”  
  
The sentiment was warming, and Derek nodded quickly, not sure how he could thank Deaton enough.  
  
After that, it was a rush to get Stiles out and into the car and back to the apartment. Lydia held him protectively, but she didn’t seem suspicious of Derek in any way, which was comforting for some reason. He drove as quickly as possible without getting pulled over, and opened door after door for Lydia after they were parked.  
  
When they got inside, Erica was already there with Allison making coffee. She turned and smiled, obviously prepared to see an awake Stiles, and frowned when she noticed he was curled in Lydia’s arms. She didn’t say anything though, just grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard.  
  
Lydia passed Stiles over to Derek and glanced at the stairs. He took the hint, pulled Stiles close and did his best to manage him up. He took Stiles into his room, set him on the bed and took a breath. Who would ever assume a human sized machine would weigh so much? After the breath, he grabbed the charging cord and plugged it into Stiles’ ankle.  
  
Stiles was positioned oddly, not able to move himself, and Derek frowned. After a moment of debating, he moved Stiles into a more comfortable position on the bed. And if he didn’t know any better, didn’t know Stiles was shut down and couldn’t react, he would swear the android smiled when Derek got closer.  
  
And when he started to back away, this thought made him pause, made him really look at Stiles. There was no light glow of skin, nothing that made Stiles look anything more than human. He was just a person Derek loved, sleeping in his bed. And that was enjoyable in a way, but it was also worrisome. Derek didn’t like the android shut down. And he didn’t like the fact that he had to think of him as human or not human sometimes.  
  
Other desires rose as he looked at him. His lips were just slightly parted, and their soft pink Derek enjoyed so much. He was there, and in Derek bed like he had been so many times before, and the last time he had been in Derek’s bed they had shared their first kiss. But this so was not the right time to think of any of that.  
  
Derek placed his hand on Stiles’ cheek before leaning down and placing a kiss on the android’s forehead. They would solve whatever was going on with them when Derek was sure Stiles was doing well. If Stiles would even fall for him again, how could he be sure? What if, along with Stiles losing his memories of Derek, all possibilities of feeling for him were deleted as well?  
  
With a heavy sigh, Derek moved away and downstairs. Stiles could change clothes on his own. Derek wasn’t really all about dressing him while he was passed out. Lydia and Allison were sitting on the couch talking in hushed tones, and Erica was eyeing them, mug lifted to her lips. Derek gave the two androids a look before walking over to Erica. “What’s that about?” He asked, taking the mug she had filled for him.  
  
Smirking, Erica shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows, maybe they’re discussing programs. I hope when they start swapping software they also discuss anti-virus ware and protection.” Then she wrinkled her nose at her (not so funny) joke and gently nudged Derek with her shoulder. He felt extremely glad that he had just taken a sip so that the coffee didn’t pour all over his hands. Why was Erica so terrible with drinks? “How are you holding up?”  
  
Derek gave a bit of a shrug, but didn’t really answer. Instead, he went to go sit on the floor near the coffee table. Erica walked over to join him. All they had left was a waiting came. How long would it take for Stiles to restore? If it was like the last time, it would be a while, right? Maybe a few days?  
  
He sighed softly and scrubbed a hand over his face. A waiting game it would be then. Erica placed her mug on the table before crawling over to the TV and shuffled through a couple of movies.  
  
“Want to put on a movie or something?” She asked quietly, holding up something Derek didn’t care to look at. Instead he looked at her, and she shrugged. “Might help keep your mind off things.” Except they both knew that was impossible. Still, it was thoughtful. So Erica just put in the DVD in and shuffled back over to Derek.  
  
Somewhere during the movie, Lydia and Allison switched into power save mode, seeing as neither had a charging cord with them. Erica fell asleep with her head resting on her arms that were crossed over the coffee table, hair splayed out over them. Derek leaned against the couch, and eventually fell asleep too, because it was better than the endless thoughts he had.  
  
He woke to a warmth on his cheeks. It made him feel comfortable, safe. There was a soothing scent mixed in with the smell of smoke, like a campfire. The smoke didn’t matter. He honed in on the spice before he opened his eyes. It was like all the world was right. He had felt these hands before. He knew these hands.  
  
“Derek?” A soft voice said, and then bright eyes flashed in the darkness. Derek squinted against the light and just barely made out the outline of everything else in the apartment. He barely made out the outlines of the android in front of him. But it was all he needed. It wasn’t Lydia, or Allison. The one kneeling in front of him, hands on his cheeks, saying his name, was Stiles. Derek’s heart began beating erratically.  
  
But he didn’t want to give himself too much hope. Stiles knew his name, but did he know anything else? No, because Peter had deleted that information. But then why was Stiles here with him? Why was Stiles so close to him?  
  
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly.  
  
Stiles didn’t say anything at first, his eyes simply scanned Derek’s face over like he was searching for something, anything. Then, slowly, Stiles leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s. The human caught his breath before he leaned into it. He knew he should pull away, ask Stiles if he knew who he was, ask if he was feeling well enough to do this, but he couldn’t. His hand came up from the ground and landed gently on the side of Stiles’ neck.  
  
He had missed the android so much.  
  
When Stiles pulled away, he glanced up at Derek, almost looking worried. “Is that okay? Did you…do you…Derek I-“  
  
He ran a thumb over Stiles’ jaw to quiet him. “Stiles, do you-“ he paused and took in a breath, “what do you remember about me?” This hurt.  
  
Stiles froze, his eyes widening slightly, lips parted. At first, Derek thought that Stiles had just kissed him for some unknown reason. He just knew the next words coming out of Stiles’ mouth were going to be “I don’t know, the dinner?” Derek knew.  
  
And he was completely wrong.  
  
“I remember everything,” Stiles said quietly at first, like he wasn’t sure how. And Derek suddenly felt like he was floating on air. “I remember waking up in your apartment, living with you, I remember Peter taking me back, and I remember him deleting stuff. But I remember, I remember what he deleted. I remember you. But Derek how did I leave? Will Peter come back for me?”  
  
Derek sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face again, relief. Stiles remembered him. He felt as if his entire being was about to implode on itself, his heart was racing. He didn’t want to care for anything else but holding Stiles. “I have no idea, I was hoping you could tell me. Lydia hasn’t said anything.”  
  
Stiles glanced to Lydia on the couch before he looked back at Derek. His entire demeanor softened, and Derek fell. “I missed you,” he said softly, leaning to press his forehead against Derek’s.  
  
It took a moment, but Derek moved his hand back to the back of Stiles’ neck and kissed him softly, briefly, on the lips. “I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Sterek so much. And these two are going to be happy next chapter. Promise.


	11. Get Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is back with Derek, memories intact. Derek and Stiles have some catch-up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one with smut. Which I apologize for. I really suck at writing smut. I suck at writing smut. Okay, just wanted you to know that :] Thanks guys, for liking this story so much by the way. I will totally finish it, and I am so sorry that it has been so long until I have finished it. It's a long sob story blah blah, but it will be done. Thanks again :]

Derek woke up in the morning in a mess of tangled limbs and bed sheets. Stiles seemed to be clinging to him for life, not that he minded, and not that he blamed Stiles either. In fact, it made Derek feel a bit more secure too. He felt much better now that Stiles was next to him again.

The android’s eyes were closed, but Derek imagined he was still very much aware of what was happening. He tightened his grip when Derek moved only slightly. So Derek paused, and took a moment, just absorbing both heat and scent. It was comforting. Having Stiles back made him feel, well, as cliché was it was, complete. He felt complete.

“Did you rest at all?” He mumbled, barely even opening his lips to get the words out.

Stiles didn’t answer immediately. When he did, it was only a “no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I did enough resting while I was restoring,” Stiles mumbled back, eyes finally opening to look at Derek. The human sighed and pulled Stiles closer, bringing a hand up on top of his head in almost a protective gesture. “It’s okay though. I wasn’t bored.”

“You still need to put yourself to sleep though,” Derek answered before kissing the top of Stiles’ head.

The model looked up at him with a kind of adoration, clearly trying to display that he liked the kiss. But then he almost seemed to shrink back again. His hand curled into the sheet covering the both of them, resting on Derek’s chest. “Yeah, but,” he sighed and stalled. “What if I wake up and don’t remember you again? What if…I’m not me?”

And Derek didn’t know the answer to that. What if Stiles did forget everything again? He had no idea what Peter might have stored inside Stiles. What if he did something to him? Derek sighed and gave him a bit of a hug again. “If you wake up and don’t remember me, then you won’t really know to miss me, right?” Trying for a silver lining.

But Stiles didn’t seem to agree, or like that idea. 

“Even when I didn’t remember you, I knew something was missing,” he said. “I didn’t feel like myself.”

“Well, then we’ll keep having Lydia restore you again and again. I’m not going to throw you out if you don’t remember who I am, Stiles. I’ll just have to keep trying to get it to stick. Okay?”

When Stiles looked up at him again, Derek imagined he would have that face printed in his memory forever. The model was absolutely beautiful. Derek felt washed over by golden eyes. And then warm lips were on his. He leaned down into the kiss, slowly drawing Stiles’ leg over his own hips.

It was lazy, the way they continued to kiss each other softly. Derek wanted to hope for the idea that they didn’t need to rush to do this. They could relish in each other any time. So he moved from placing kiss after kiss on Stiles’ lips to placing them on his jaw, his ear, his cheekbone, his eyelid, the corner of his nose, and eventually to a heated line down the model’s neck. Stiles softly gasped at each feeling, and Derek imagined each one was new to him. So he did it again, and again, placing kisses wherever he could.

Stiles moaned then, capturing Derek’s lips sharply with his. He had obviously had enough with Derek’s slow pace, which Derek grinned at. Stiles moved to straddle Derek’s hips, managed to keep their chests touching as he licked against Derek’s lips. The layers between felt like a curse.

Derek tangled the hand on Stiles’ head into his hair, gently pulling back so he could lick a line up his neck, under his chin. Stiles shuddered. Derek took a small (okay, incredibly large) pleasure out of that. The android could really feel everything, couldn’t he?

“Derek,” Stiles said softly, following Derek’s lead and cupping his lips over a patch of Derek’s neck to kiss, leaving a small wet spot. “I think” He licked once. “That I” Kissed. “Want to” he mumbled over Derek’s skin, “try it with you. Sex, I mean.”

Slowly, Derek leaned back and looked up at Stiles. His hair was messed, his lips were gleaming, and his eyes were half-lidded. Derek didn’t know how he looked so human, but it was beautiful. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Stiles told him definitively. “I want to have sex with you. And I know I can. I just…”

Derek kissed him to quiet him. Of course he would have sex with Stiles. Of course, of course, of course.

His hands slid down to cup the sides of Stiles’ head, his fingers nearly touching in the back. Stiles leaned into him, seeming to sigh in relief. Testing the waters, Derek rolled his hips against the android, pressing his thigh against Stiles’ groin. The android reciprocated and pressed down, letting out a soft moan as he did so.

The noise sounded almost as good as Stiles felt against him.

But just as Derek moved to grind up into him again, there was a knock on his bedroom door. Suddenly, he remembered that Erica was still there, with two other androids also. Stiles made a noise of protest, but understood that they probably weren’t going to be able to continue. Derek sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Derek?” Erica called from the other side of the door. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that Stiles is up and running. I am also going to assume that what Lydia told me happened, which is why I am so not opening the door because I do not want to see that part of the reunion. But you need to get downstairs so we can figure shit out, sorry to break it up. Hi Stiles!”

And then he heard her footsteps moving away from the door. Derek had never hated Erica before, but in that moment he did a little bit, even after all she had just gone through to help him.

“To be continued?” Stiles asked softly, grinning all the while. Then he was moving off of Derek, and Derek felt ridiculously cold and bare. He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow.

“Remind me not to invite her over for a little while,” he grumbled, and Stiles laughed.

Downstairs, Erica was sitting at the table, a mug of coffee to her lips while Allison seemed to be scanning for something. Lydia was standing patiently with her arms crossed over her chest. Derek rubbed the back of his head and prayed that his and Stiles’ former involvement wasn’t that visible. From the look Lydia gave him, he guessed it was. Stiles walked up next to him and grinned at the three while giving an awkward but enthusiastic wave.

“Stiles, how are you feeling?” Lydia asked, looking him up and down quickly, studying him like she expected Derek to have damaged him already.

“In a word, interrupted. In two, sexually frustr---“ he started, and Derek bumped his shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. Lydia kind of terrified him, okay? Admittedly, the bump probably hurt Derek more than it hurt Stiles though.

Except Erica just laughed and spilled some of her coffee on the table. Lydia tapped the fingers of one hand over her arm and stared Derek down. Definitely terrified him.

“So not necessary,” Stiles grumbled at Derek, rubbing his shoulder, probably just for show. Then he looked back at Lydia, the grin returned. “Seriously though Lydia, I’m great. Pretty sure I remember everything, not like I would know if not. But what I remember is pretty damn good, so I’ll keep it.” Then there was a wink at Derek, and Lydia was seriously going to pull his spine out of his back Predator style.

“What did we need to ‘figure out’?” Derek decided to cut in, wanting to edge away from this portion of the conversation. “What did you two talk about while we were…sleeping.”

This seemed to relax Lydia slightly, even if she was still throwing the occasional glare at Derek. Apparently her twenty questions from the previous day weren’t reassuring enough. She turned to glance at Erica and dropped her arms, just to move one up to rest on her hip. “Peter’s not dead,” she informed bluntly, and looked back at Derek and Stiles. “But he can’t access us, I made sure of that. I also disabled any program designed to have us listen to his orders, not that Stiles ever did anyway. I don’t have emotions strong enough to negate the programming, however.”

It wasn’t the worst situation, but it wasn’t good. What would happen if Peter came after them? Or found a way to shut them down?

“But that isn’t all,” Erica told them, and Derek’s heart picked up, nervous for more bad news. But then Erica grinned, and even Lydia managed to quirk some kind of a smile.

“I have all of Peter’s information stored inside my systems, including things like his bank account. I have changed his passwords and accounts and notified the banks that there is someone attempting to steal his identity. If he comes trying to use the old information, he will be immediately apprehended.” Now even Lydia managed to grin, and Stiles was laughing. Derek just felt shocked and amazed at her actions.

“On top of that, I have stored and backed up both Stiles’ and my memories and personalities. I also sent them to Deaton just last night. Before delivering Stiles to Peter, I made sure to copy everything out of him. That information too, has now been sent to Doctor Deaton. In the event that either of us are apprehended and wiped, you now have the ability to get us back.” She nodded and leaned her hip against the table. “Deaton has also promised that he will not try to recreate us. Our personalities and memories are our own. However, now that he has my logic programs and Stiles’ affectation programs, he can use our guidelines to create more human-like models, if he should like.” Though Derek was certain Deaton wouldn’t want to. Maybe not for the public release at least.

“Lydia, you are a freaking mad genius,” Stiles grinned at her, his hands moving for emphasis because he didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Oh, I know,” she answered, her own silent, emphatic movement flipping her hair over her shoulder accompanied her words.

“Everything’s not solidified yet, but I think we can pull this off,” Erica told them, clearly in on all of this already. But Derek felt like his head was spinning. Erica and Lydia were clearly on a level that he was not.

“Pull off what?” He asked stupidly, feeling oblivious to the big secret everyone else seemed in on.

“We use Peter’s money, buy a new house, get some awesome security and stay together was one big, incredibly strange, happy family,” Lydia told him, the deadpan face and lack of enthusiasm in her voice adding some hilarity to the statement that Derek didn’t think she intended.

“Really?” Stiles questioned, his grin only widening.

“Really,” Erica promised. Then she looked at Derek, who still felt stunned by the information. “I personally feel like a few of us could use some more family.”

Derek stared back for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded. Laura and Cora didn’t exactly call, or visit. It was the problem with being the only son, and the middle child. They got along splendidly, but not so much with Derek. Sure, they all loved each other, they were family after all, but after their parents died there wasn’t really a necessity behind the need to see each other.

Still, he didn’t exactly feel like it was right to steal Peter’s money, even if the man was a jerk. Then again, he was dabbling in a line of work that could be considered illegal. So maybe it was better that he obtained some other kind of identity?

“I left him something, Derek, don’t worry. He won’t be helpless,” Lydia told him, her eyes glowing pink and Derek sudden felt invaded. Could the model read minds? She did have a logical capability higher than any human. How far did it go? He swallowed and looked away from her again, nodding.

Then he looked at Stiles, and the android was looking at him, a small smile on his lips and obviously thinking something. Derek nudged him with his shoulder, and Stiles shook awake.

“Oh, sorry, I was just calibrating or something” Stiles smiled, and slipped his hand into Derek’s. He squeezed, gently, a silent communication. Asking if it was alright, if Derek would want to stay with him, if they could be together.

And Derek squeezed back. Because yeah, it sounded like a dream. Way too good of an ending. But maybe it could work out that way for once.

The rest of the day, they discussed possibilities of what could happen and what they would do, how it would all work out. Derek called Deaton and informed him of everything that was going on. He sounded oddly delighted and told Derek that he could assist them on security. He also mentioned that he would send over a gift.

Scott arrived at Derek’s apartment with a bag and a huge grin on his face later that night. Stiles and Scott actually jumped with excitement upon seeing each other and reuniting. Scott informed them that Deaton had given his particular model a little bit of an upgrade. He was beginning to actually feel things like Stiles. Apparently his system would be up and running the new programs completely within a few days.

After that, it all seemed to happen way too quickly. Erica told Boyd about the plan and he was fine with it. They even talked Isaac into it, though Isaac seemed more than little shy when he found out that Scott would be staying with them too. They now needed to find a place big enough for four humans and four androids.

Deaton gave them some advice, apparently there was a place open in the woods, similar to Peter’s house, but on the opposite side of the preserve. Lydia went to work on communicating with the company that put it up for sale. The realtor was very put off by her cold exterior and was more than willing to accept her demands.

A month later they were beginning to move their things into the house. It was an odd assortment of different styles, but it all seemed to work together. Of course, new things were needed or wanted as well, and they managed to add or take away when necessary.

While there was excitement in getting a house and moving in with everyone, Derek felt too exhausted most of the time between making deals and working and discussing with the others to follow Stiles up on his request, much to Derek’s displeasure. But Stiles never brought it up. He would lay next to Derek and read to him quietly, even though Derek generally fell asleep too fast to hear more than three words of the book. If Derek ever did feel up for it, there was never a moment alone for the two of them to have. It was a vicious cycle that the human had gotten quickly irritated with. Lydia and Scott living in his apartment in the process of house negotiations was not ideal.

And though he never brought it up, Stiles was clearly trying to make it as difficult as possible for Derek. With the two other androids constantly in the apartment, one that Derek was terrified if he kissed Stiles in front of then she would dismember him, Stiles still found time to somehow taunt him. Derek wasn’t even aware that the android even knew how to tease, but the amounts of times he would turn around and Stiles would be bending over in front of him, or stretching just enough to reveal a sliver of skin between pants waist and shirt hem was torturous. Not to mention when Stiles would zone off and his tongue would slip out of his mouth to just barely run along one of his lips. Derek wasn’t certain if that one was intentional or not. Or the things he liked to rest between his lips. Why did he have to do that?

Once or twice Stiles even slowly started to slide his hand up Derek’s leg when they were sitting next to each other. But somehow Lydia always knew and fixed them both with a look. Stiles awkwardly jumped away immediately after.

Other times, the two of them were comfortable enough with just walking down the street in each other’s presence. Derek had never really been one much for hand holding, but there was something about Stiles that made him perfectly okay with walking to work while listening to the model, their fingers laced together. He guessed he would get used to hand holding eventually, you know, if it killed him or whatever.

They were perfectly satisfied just being with each other, and Derek enjoyed that fact.

One night when they got back from work, however, they walked into the house and kicked off their shoes. Stiles looked up quickly and glanced around before shuffling into the kitchen. Derek placed down his briefcase before following after him.

“Anyone home?” He asked, pausing in the doorway. Stiles shook his head slowly before turning to look back at Derek with a large grin spread across his face. The human nodded and glanced down at the floor. Would Stiles even be interested at this point? It had been long enough, maybe the android had changed his mind? That was a stupid thought…wasn’t it?

Yes it was, because in a rush, Stiles was in front of him, no, wrapped around him. His arms came up and moved around Derek’s shoulders. He pressed close, and Derek could feel the outline of his body through their clothes, and he suddenly felt soaked in warmth. His scent was so close, and all at once he was in a daze. Stiles definitely should not be able to affect him that quickly.

“So,” Stiles mumbled against his lips, and Derek opened his eyes to look at the other. Stiles always looked amazing from this close. “Think we could make this whole alone thing work for us?”

Derek smirked, his hand moving up to lightly tangle with Stiles’ hair. Then he jerked his head back, immediately nosing along the android’s neck. At the strangled noise Stiles made, Derek felt his chest swell. “I think we can,” Derek answered, making sure his lips barely brushed against the other’s skin, and Stiles practically whined.

“Derek,” he said softly, trying to pull his head back up, but Derek held firmly, his tongue darting out occasionally to dip along silver lines. Derek wanted to take every ounce of his time figuring Stiles out this way.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Derek told him, his other hand moving down to grab Stiles’ ass. He slid it a bit further, letting his fingers explore so they just barely pressed between his legs. Then he squeezed, reveling in the moan Stiles let out, feeling his own dick twitch in response. Derek groaned softly and pressed their hips together. And he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he felt the outline of Stiles’ hardening length through the android’s pants. It made him infinitely more curious.

“Definitely,” Stiles groaned, trying to press back against Derek’s hand and lean into him. Stiles’ pure want was enveloping. Derek craved more.

But if they had any plans on moving out of the kitchen, he needed to back away. He gave Stiles a sharp spank before taking a breath and a step back. They stared at each other for a moment before Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and jerked him out of the doorway and toward the stairs.

Derek pressed him against a wall on the way to the stairs, hand wrapped around the front of the android’s shirt so he could just hold him there, absorb the feeling of them. Stiles pulled him close, placed heated kiss after heated kiss to Derek’s mouth, chin, jaw. The human had to resist from stripping the both of them down there and managed to push away from the wall and up the stairs.

Where they just ended up pressed against a door.

“We’re not-“ Stiles started, chuckling a bit into a kiss, “Derek, we’re not going to get very far if you keep—“

Derek sucked Stiles’ lip between his, and the android seemed to lose track of what exactly he was saying, his eyes fluttering to stay open and a small moan coming from between his lips. Derek only felt a little smug at the reaction. Only a little.  
As Stiles seemed to gain thought back after a moment and shoved Derek away from him and toward their bedroom. “I swear to God, Derek, if we are not in that room and naked within thirty seconds I am leaving you with blue balls.”

It was a threat that made him laugh, but a threat he was also aware Stiles would take him up on. Which, Stiles getting his memories back meant all of them; he officially knew what blue balls were…that was…well, that was.

Derek smirked and guided him into the bedroom, fingers finding the hem of Stiles’ shirt while he slowly pulled it off of him. The android smiled shyly, ducking his head as though Derek hadn’t seen him shirtless before. Then again, this was a much more momentous occasion. Derek lean in to run his lips along Stiles’ collarbone, just breathing him in for a moment, a hand reaching to close the door behind them.

“Your thirty seconds are almost up,” Stiles said, smile fading halfway into a moan.

“And you need patience,” Derek mumbled, smirking against his skin.

He shuffled them closer to the bed, hands peeling away his own suit jacket. Stiles grinned, grabbed Derek’s tie and pulled him onto the bed with it, making him crawl closer and damn, the android had moves. Derek smirked, letting Stiles pull him closer with the tie until they kissed, and Derek licked into Stiles’ mouth.

But the clothes caused more of a hassle than a good. Derek began to unbutton his shirt, more than pleased that Stiles jumped in to help because the fabric needed to be gone-now. Once his shirt and tie were off, he worked at Stiles’ pants, practically pulling them off without bothering to unbutton them.

“Lay back,” Derek said, making room for Stiles to lay down before he worked at planting small kisses down Stiles’ torso. The android groaned softly, his back arching, hips lifting off the bed. Derek grinned to himself, knowing very well that Stiles was keeping himself from complaining.

“Derek, I swear, oh my God,” he said, frustrated, and Derek chuckled to himself. “I knew it. You’re a sadist, you’re going to keep me in a constant state of arousal until my motherboard fries and I die knowing I fell for a complete and utter a—“

Stiles’ stopped talked with a sputtered moan while Derek’s mouth brushed the outline of his cock through his boxers. Again, he felt oddly smug at getting Stiles to stop mid thought. Then he pulled the android’s boxers down, enjoying the little hiss he received from Stiles in the process.

“Yes, that is exactly what I want you to do, please continue,” Stiles told him with a bit of a smile.

Again, Derek smirked, all the while he grabbed the base of Stiles’ cock, giving a few experimental strokes. Yes, he felt real, and it was odd, and Derek couldn’t dwell on it long or else he would wonder just why Stiles felt so real. But that didn’t matter at the moment. All that mattered was the beautiful form below him. And Derek felt his chest tighten with want, with…

Derek licked a stripe up the underside of Stiles’ cock, watching as Stiles moaned, shivered, spread his legs a little wider for Derek. He was gorgeous, skin glowing just the slightest, eyes closed and lips parted. Slowly, Derek took the head of Stiles’ length into his mouth, sucking gently, softly, before sliding down the rest, taking him all in.

“Okay, okay, way different experiencing it,” Stiles began mumbling, his hips trying to arch off the bed before Derek held them down. The android whined softly. “God, Derek, please keep going-oh my God, it feels so good. Holy shit.”

Derek smirked up at him, and Stiles glanced down only to look away again with a moan. Time to stop being mean. Derek bobbed his head, curled his tongue around every inch of Stiles it could reach, sucked gently. The android shivered, whined, moaned, panted.

“I think I’m, Derek, I-“ Stiles started again, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in Derek’s hair. He pulled, and Derek really didn’t mind it. Instead, it coaxed him on.

He reached his hand up, slipping it between Stiles’ cheeks, and lightly pressed his finger at the hole there. Stiles shuddered and gasped before pressing against it.

“Yes, th-that too,” Stiles stuttered for a moment.

“Lube?” Derek said, pulling off of Stiles long enough to ask before mouthing around the head of the android’s cock again.

Stiles practically whined before he reached for the bedside table, hands grabbing for a moment before finding it the bottle and tossing it at Derek’s head. Derek looked up with a glare, and Stiles just gave his stupid little innocent smile. God, Derek was so gone for him.

After he slicked his fingers, Derek moved back to place one against Stiles’ hole, barely pressing in just to tease a little bit more. Stiles groaned in frustration, pulling at Derek’s hair again. “Just do it so I can—“ He tried again.

So impatient. But Derek obeyed anyway, slowly working one finger into the android. Stiles gasped, ground back against it.

That’s when Derek pulled his mouth off of him and sat up. Stiles whined and glared at him, even added in a half-hearted attempt to pull Derek back down. But he simply grinned at the android and worked in a second finger.

“Not just yet,” Derek told him, voice lower than he’d ever heard himself. It was practically a rumble in his throat. Stiles should not have this control over him. He felt lightheaded, dizzy. Maybe it was something he needed to get checked out later.

“Derek-please-I can’t-“ Stiles said before Derek curled over, cut him off with a kiss. Stiles whined into his mouth, and it was delicious.

He worked in a third finger slowly, making sure Stiles stretched, that he could stretch, before he straightened himself once again.

“Ready?” He asked. And when Stiles nodded vigorously, almost at a loss for words, Derek smirked and slicked his cock with lube before lining up against Stiles’ hole and slowly pushing in.

Stiles moaned, pressing against Derek until he was fully in, and the android stilled suddenly. Derek paused, wondering if he hurt him before Stiles was grinning and pulling Derek into a kiss. “You feel so fucking good, oh man, like, this is seriously the greatest feeling in the world. We need to do this all the time,” Stiles laughed a moment.

Derek smiled at him before shaking his head and thrusting into Stiles once. He watched the grin on the android fade to a moan, and Stiles had no idea how gorgeous he was. Derek ignored his own moan, smirking up at Stiles, “we haven’t quite reached the greatest feeling in the world. Promise.”

“You’re lying to me,” Stiles mumbled, but it didn’t have much heat. Instead he seemed focused on meeting each of Derek’s thrusts.

It was nearly a challenge, and Derek intended to prove himself right. His hands gripped Stiles’ hips tightly before he quickened his pace, pressing Stiles into the mattress with each thrust. The android gasped, moaned, wrapped a hand around the pillow below his head.

“Okay, Derek, I really am going to—“ Stiles moaned, his hips trying to arch up all the while trying to meet each of Derek’s thrusts.

The human nodded, panting, his hand moving to wrap around Stiles’ cock once more. It barely took a few pumps for Stiles to shudder, his hips rolling against Derek quicker, seeking more friction between the two of them, moaning, his skin flashing bright silver.

It was enough to send Derek over the edge, his orgasm hitting him in a wave as he felt Stiles tighten around his cock. He stilled, trying to catch his breath, piece together coherent thoughts. He just had sex with an android. He just had sex with an android and it felt amazing, and real, and Derek wouldn’t have known the difference if it wasn’t for the silver light. And well…

“You didn’t…you don’t have-,” Derek said suddenly, glancing down at the space between them and the lack of mess there.

“Oh,” Stiles said, looking a bit panicked suddenly, “yeah, I don’t um…ejaculate…I guess, I mean I can come but I can't...Is that a problem?”

Derek slowly shook his head. He could handle it, would accept anything for Stiles. “Sure will make clean up easier,” he mumbled, easing himself out of the android and collapsing to the side of him. When Stiles still looked a bit nervous, Derek placed a soft, warm kiss to the corner of his lips with a, “I promise I don’t mind.”

Stiles eagerly kissed him back before scooting to fit into the space between Derek’s arm and side. An android cuddler. Stiles was an android cuddler.  
“That was…I mean, you were so right. There was totally a better feeling. Can we definitely do that again sometime?” Stiles asked, looking up at Derek hopefully.

Derek huffed a laugh, his hand coming up to play with Stiles’ hair. “I’ll order the soundproofing tonight, and you’ll be glad if you ever get out of this bed.”

“Pretty sure I’ll just enjoy never leaving it again,” Stiles grinned up at him.

Derek felt an overflowing fondness for the android and kissed his forehead softly. He was well aware of what he had admitted to Lydia, and no, he hadn’t said it to Stiles yet. He almost feared it would break whatever it was between the two of them. Maybe in the back of his mind he still feared that Stiles couldn’t feel the same for him. But Derek loved him all the same.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles started, almost shy again.

“Hm?” Derek hummed, cracking an eye open to look at the android. His skin still had a glow. He was literally basking in afterglow.

“I love you,” Stiles stated, his hand coming to rest on Derek’s chest.

The human took in a breath, pulled Stiles a little closer to him, and entwined his fingers with the hand on his chest. “I love you too,” he said, punctuating it with a kiss.


End file.
